Flight of the Innuendo

Admittedly I was a bit depressed to be leaving Virginia and all its fine, fine scenery--and it was a very sad, Paxil popping Hellion who checked onto her flight to Missouri. I had "C" boarding, and I talked to this charming fellow who talked incessantly about the last flight he took that got struck by lightening three times and nearly crashed the plane.

I chose not to sit next to him.

However, since it was Southwest, and it was "general seating", I looked for a place to sit. Around the mid-part of the plane, there were two cute guys sitting, with the seat between them--and being I love cute guys, I asked if I could sit there. The aisle seat one jumped up obligingly and I sat.

They were not chatty. Enter more depression. I was thinking fondly of my Y108 guy...and Mark the Merchant Marine...and I thumbed through my magazine as I was ignored. Finally while up in the air (after I ran out of magazine--damnit), I broke down and talked to the young one on my right. (The guy on my left was very unchatty. I thought, well, maybe he doesn't want to be bothered.) So the young one and I talk for about 15 minutes or so. We get our snack and drink; the guy on my left doesn't even get a drink. How can you not get a drink?

The guy on my left SO doesn't want to chat, he brings out a crossword puzzle to ignore me. So I keep bothering the youngun on my right. Then finally I notice Crossword Guy is struggling...and I see a clue I know. I lean over, run my hand down the section of the page, and say, "This one is 'Grisham'."

He looks at me. I know. I've broken the cardinal rule, right, but I figure, well, screw it. He'll change planes and never have to see me again. "No, really, it's Grisham. See." He does.

"Thank you." He scribbles it in. And then it was on. We worked the crossword puzzle together. I've never had more fun working a game in my life. At the end, we're stuck...and I say, "Well the answers are on 230."

He gives me a horrified look. "We can't CHEAT." You would have thought I asked him to kill somebody.

"Yes, you can."

But we didn't cheat. We finish; we revel in our brilliance...and then because there is another 20 minutes of flight, I say, "Hey, let's start the next one."

"No, that's too hard."

"Oh, come on, what are we going to do for the rest of this flight? We can at least try...and if it's as hard as you say, we'll cheat."

And boy, did we ever cheat! We cheated like four times in as many minutes within the start of the puzzle. I started giggling madly. "OMG, cheating's bad. Once you start cheating, you just can't quit doing it."

Crossword Guy gaped at me. "I can't believe you just said that out loud!"

I laughed again. "I don't care. It's not what it sounds like..."

"I know!..."

And so it was on. The Flight of the Innuendo. We tossed back and forth really bad puns for the rest of the flight...and he decided, once he realized I too was flying to St. Louis he would take the magazine and we'd finish it on the next flight. He followed me off the plane. "I'm keeping close to you. You're the other half of my brain."

I know. I laughed hysterically too at that.

I go to the bathroom; I return to call Jackie--and I promptly tell her about Jack, from Colonial Williamsburg. "He was the best thing about this trip!" I gush, because, well, he was. I get off the phone, and Crossword Guy says, "You didn't hear me, did you?" I shook my head. "I'm the best thing to happen to you on this trip." Oh, boy.

"You're the best thing to happen to me today. I was living in the past, you see...what are we going to do now to kill time?"

THEN our flight gets delayed. Yes, Fate says, "Hey flirt with this guy..." and I do...like mad. He buys me some food and a drink. I even spit on him--which I've really got to stop doing to guys. He calls his buddy--and says he'll be late...but he doesn't tell the truth. He doesn't say, "Because our flight has been delayed..." No. He says:

"I met this redhead on the plane." There is a pause as the friend asks a question, and I'm blatantly listening...and Crossword Guy's eyes flick over me in this rake-Once-Over, then he grins and goes, "Yeah." OMG, he just told that guy I was hot! I've never been hot in my life! "Gotta go, I'm busy," he says and hangs up. Then he shares a laugh with me. "That's going to tear him up."

More innuendos. We line up for our flight--because we obviously want to sit together. We're standing next to this cute little chicky-poo who suddenly says, "You guys are so friendly and cute! How long have you been married?"

I know. I laughed hysterically at that too.

Finally after exchanging a look with him, I say, "We're not married. I'm returning from vacation; and he's returning from business. We met on the last flight--I don't even know his name."

Chicky-poo gapes at us. "You're kidding! You guys acted totally married!"

Crossword Guy grins. "I told you my name was George Jetson." I roll my eyes with Chicky-poo.

Then Chicky-poo, Bless Her Heart, says, "Hey, you're Jeff!"--and points to his boarding pass. Yes! Finally!

"And you're Cathy," I say, because I noticed hers earlier...and then I had to reveal my name...which Jeff then made a Stripes reference, in regards to my name. Nice.

So Cathy, Jeff, and I sit in the last row of the plane and finish the crossword...and Jeff & I still flirt...and it's 10 pm (an hour and a half PAST when I was supposed to come in), and...Jeff helps me collect my luggage...well, he takes me to the luggage...and I'm on the phone with my ride...and he bids me farewell. *coughs*

Did I get his number? No. Did I give him my number? No.

I should be taken out and shot. Seriously.