So I was all set to post a little cartoon video. Short and Sweet. Then a story happened that seemed a) too good not to share and b) oddly similar to pre-chosen video.
There are two things I know to be true about myself.
1. It is impossible for me to fly without something interesting happening. Usually, it leans more toward calamity than fortune, but either way, I ALWAYS have a story from my flights.
2. Seattle is my lucky in love city. I can’t go there without some small thrill. It’s the weirdest most frustrating thing. (frustrating b/c I live thousands of miles away and have less luck here)
So my story.
Sunday I boarded a plane for Seattle. In the row next to mine sat a nice looking gentlemen who seemed to notice me, too. We did the eyes and the smile and the small stuff. When we landed, he nodded a goodbye.
Airports in general have a buzz about them, don’t you think? So many people going so many places, it’s hard not to wonder, will I ever see this person again? I was pretty excited to see the friends I was visiting, so I rushed away to meet my ride, Amy outside. Hug, dinner, run the next day, coffee, lunch, shopping, and eventually my last night in town. We headed out to dinner followed by a drink at Kings Hardware. We walked in and there.he.was.
The guy from the plane! #sleeplessinseattle #thisismyluckycity #ithoughtmyplanestorieswereover
We chatted a little, both surprised to run into one another. He lives in Seattle. I don’t. I say I’m in town visiting and to see about a job. He says he hopes I move and that Seattle could use more girls like me. Smile. A friendly goodbye and I return to my friends.
Next day. Fly home. Layover in Oakland that reveals a Facebook message from guy from the plane! He admits to typing my name and city in and finding me.
The rest? Well, none of your business:) I do have some boundaries.
Happy Valentine’s Day, everybody!
Before you start thinking anything along the lines of me being oh so suave, you should know (thankfully after talking with plane guy) I noticed my butt was wet when I stood up to use the restroom. What the heck? I couldn’t figure it out. Until I returned to my seat and saw that my jacket was also wet. Someone had spilled pickles on my chair. PICKLES! I sat in pickles. AKA the most stinky and gross food on the planet.
We called it a night.