The best advice I ever received was to always take gum (or breath mints), if offered. Wait. What?You don’t take candy from strangers. But, doesn’t it sort of make meeting strangers fun? You can’t tame this butterfly. But, this post isn’t about that. Or is it? I don’t know. Just follow along. And well, yes, I did offer a breath mint to a total stranger on my flight yesterday. He was dressed nice, suit, tie, etc. How bad could he be? Yes, I’m a fan of the clean cut man club. You know, the type that bathe, more than once a week. And shave. Uh, ever watch Mansions & Murders, sweetheart? Yes, but not every tall glass of water is out to murder his family in their mansion. So, still a fan. Sexy and perfectly manscaped. Sigh.
Anyway, this hot little gum drop slept pretty much half way across the nation, as we flew high in the skies, seated in between my son and I. Head back against the seat rest. Mouth wide open. Breathing all over everybody. So, when he awoke from his drool-less slumber, I thought I’d chat it up. Oh no. He wasn’t having it. Dag nabbit. Dialogue, dialogue… I need to instigate a conversation. So, I offered a mint, to break the ice and he slightly joked, “Oh, no thanks. Unless you’re trying to tell me something,” as he smiled. His sexy little smirk. Ahhh… why is he staring at me all weird? Maybe I should stop batting my eyelashes in his general direction. Damn his freshly shaven, strong jawline.
About an hour to go on the flight. And cutie patootie is ordering a cup of noodles and bloody mary mix. Without the alcohol. And a Cup O’ Noodles. Hmmm… ok, they were out of tomato juice. I see the alternative, choice of champions. Sarcasm. But, now he’s so loaded up on sodium, he might poop salt. Dammit. Less attractive now. And then the coughing begins. Why?! Why, the bad food choices?!! There were other healthier options. Like vodka. And, he’s still not taking an interest in me and all my hotness. Hmmm… no biggie. But, I can’t find anything wrong with him except his terrible sodium-packed snackery. And his possible, common cold outbreak, he’s about to unleash onto the airborne vehicle because he doesn’t cover his mouth with his sleeve. Or hand. Or maybe with a nearby napkin. Hey hambone, let’s try the nearby napkin! So, I give up on this chance at love, because we’re only a few short stints from landing and I realize, for at least two, of the four and a half hour flight, he’s the jerkoff that’s been coughing and hacking in my general direction. While snotty children were screaming in the back and running up and down the aisles. Ah, but his kindly tailored suit and chisled bone structure, all handsome and yearning for my touch … You sure you don’t want some gum?