This past weekend, AJ had a drum corps final in Annapolis. The original plan was to pick up Nita from work and make the 9 hour trek overnight from Cincinnati to Annapolis. The danger in that was that we’d either kill each other or be so fatigued we’d run off the road, either scenario probably playing out in the outskirts of Baltimore around 2 AM.
Instead, Nita found cheap plane tickets. So we flew. We got into Annapolis two hours earlier than expected, and the only drives were to CVG and from BWI to the hotel. So much easier when someone else does the driving.
And more entertaining. On the first leg of the flight, which was to Philadelphia, we noticed a woman behind us had been talking almost non-stop since we left Cincinnati. Nothing unusual. There’s one on every flight, and as long as I’m not sitting next to her, I’m happy.
Except this girl, an attractive blonde in her late twenties, smuggled a couple of beers onto the plane. As she drank them, she got louder. Just as we entered the holding pattern for Philly, Nita nudged me.
“She’s been going non-stop since Cincinnati.”
By now, I started noticing as well. We started listening. Actually, we couldn’t help it. She was fascinated by Chris from Mt. Adams across the aisle. Chris from Mt. Adams responded to her quietly, but neutrally. He was a surgeon and, this was mentioned three times, married. As we circled Philadelphia Airport, the blonde started getting louder.
“You should let me buy you a drink when we land,” she said. “My boyfriend is, like, in Boston.”
Chris from Mt. Adams mumbled something and started concentrating on the Sky Mall catalog he suddenly noticed in the seat back.
No response. Chris from Mt. Adams was a good and faithful husband.
“Chris! You need to give me your phone number.”
By now, there were a few titters from the surrounding passengers. I looked back. Chris was sitting a bit lower in his seat.
“Chris! Hey, Chris!”
This prompted AJ to pipe up. “Damn, woman. You’re persistent!”
Have I mentioned AJ is not shy?
The blonde ignored him. “Chris! If you don’t let me buy you a drink, you’re going to regret it!”
The entire plane erupted in laughter. We could afford to. The wheels had just hit the runway, and Chris from Mt. Adams was about to escape to the wilds of Philadelphia Airport.
We never saw Chris or the blonde again, but if Nita or I ever spot him at a Mt. Adams tavern, we’re buying him that drink. He deserves it.