Why Now?

So there I was on the flight from Boston to Paris last Thursday. It's a short flight so I was in two minds whether to drug myself and sleep, in case I was still a zombie when we landed. (I had to shower and go straight to a four hour meeting at the other end.) I was in my seat as the other passengers boarded, and who should come and sit in the window seat next to me but this gorgeous blonde. (By this I mean "natural gorgeous, not fake tits and make-up.)

We took off, and I was just thinking how nice it was to have bonus seat-mate quality, when the flight attendant came over and tapped me on the shoulder. "Mr Bison - we have two open seats behind you here, if you'd like to move over?"

What could I say? I love having the empty seat next to me, to put all my crap in during the flight, and the poor blonde wouldn't have to climb over my comatose form to get out of her seat if I moved. So I did. I have to say, though, that it was not without sadness. It's not that I was going to actually talk to her during the flight - I was going to be comatose, remember - but it's such a waste only to have the option to move when my seatmate is small and attractive, rather than the obese, snoring gutbucket that I usually get stuck next to.

Funny how the little things bother you when you travel...