The Time I Took Candy From A Stranger

It was late January of 2010 and I had just barely made it to the airport for my early morning, non-stop flight home to San Francisco from Boston, where I had spent the previous 48 hours pretending I was still in college.

It was Sunday, bloody Sunday, I was in airport zombie mode, where you prepare for the flight as if you’re never gonna land: dropping 20 bucks on a pre-packaged sandwich, 50 bucks on tabloids all with the same cover story, Mentos and a bottle of VASA water (the official airport spring water. WHY?!), I was in such a daze I easily became distracted by a Cinnabon novelty, fuck it i’m still on vacation for the next 6 hours, I’m gonna eat it.

75 bucks poorer and a dry turkey sandwich with wilted lettuce and a mayonnaise packet richer I boarded the flight.

You know the feeling of doom as you walk towards your seat on a plane, holding your breath as you get closer to it, looking at all the obese or baby bullets you’ve already dodged praying it can’t get worse? Or, when you’re already seated and you watch the guy who might maybe be like a 1/4 Indian walk down the aisle towards you, and you think: PLEASE DON’T BE SEATED IN 23B! OH SHIT YOU DON’T HAVE ANY CARRY ON! PLEASE, NO! (don’t even START with me because you KNOW you’ve thought that.)

Anyways, I get to my seat and much to my surprise two normal looking lady strangers were already seated, buckled-in and reading the in-flight magazine (HORIZONS) in the seat back pockets in front of them, I think they were even perusing the selection of beverages. First timers? Little did I know we were about to learn EVERYTHING about each other’s lives. AWWWWKKKKWAAARRRRD.

I have a love/hate relationship with strangers, mostly hate. I hate when people butt into my conversation when I’m waiting in line for the ladies room or something with a nugget of info: “It’s on 5th street, couldn’t help but over hear!” It’s like… you’re not being helpful, you’re just annoying me because if I wanted to know exact directions I would have ASKED. AND WHAT ELSE DID YOU OVERHEAR, BITCH?!

I admit, I’m guilty of butting into a conversation, the last time I did I was waiting in line at Safeway and these two gay guys were debating the cover of Life & Style Magazine and wondering how Amber from Teen Mom tried to kill herself…I just couldn’t stand to hear their struggles anymore so I had to intervene with some knowledge, and I assure you, it was well received.

Ok, back to this flight. Everyone knows the kiss of death is chatty seat-mates. I’m not sure if it was because during the course of the trip I became deathly hungover and I just wanted to be held and consoled and assured that I wasn’t going to die aboard the 747, or because I was still arguably drunk when I sat down, but this time it was different, I loved my chatty seat-mates! I can’t even remember their names, but I felt like I was on an episode of Tyra, sharin’ stories, choppin’ it up…SISTAZ DOIN IT FOR THEM-SELVES!

So “Aisle Seat” was in her mid to late 40′s, had been a housewife in suburban Massachusetts, got married too young, but once her kids went off to middle school she had regained control of her life and was living her dream as a makeup artist at Sephora in the Natick mall. She had never been to California before, but the company was sending her to some classes at headquarters for a few days, all expenses paid! Girl was ready to get her fake lashes and her PARTY on! (After she ditched the turtleneck sweater)

“Middle Seat” was in her early 30′s, pharma sales, recently had come out of a bitter divorce from her cheating, lying-sack-a-shit, no good, controlling husband who she had married, against her parents will at age 18. When she went to pawn her ring in the aftermath, she was informed it was fake and not even worth 100 bucks. WHOA. DRAMZ. I was eating this shit UP. She had contracted swine flu due to the extreme stress, moved back in with her parents and while she was sick in bed had met her NEW man….on plentyoffish.com. She was headed to California for the first time as well for a job interview with a bio-tech company.

“Window Seat” (me) didn’t really have any good stories, I was just a drunk, jaded, recent college grad with a lame internship. Luckily, since I was from California they both assumed I totally knew like all these celebs and I drove around in a convertible and my life was basically like Lauren Conrad’s on Laguna Beach. At one point I confided to “Aisle Seat” (momma bear) that I felt really sick from my hangover and she gave me a Tums and ordered me a ginger ale from the flight attendant and even offered to switch seats with me so I could make a swift exit to the bathroom if necessary. Talk about livin’ the DREAM!

It was the shortest cross country flight on record. Between swapping mags, and stories, dating tips, life advice, makeup tricks, I even think “Middle Seat” recommended a bra from Victoria’s secret at one point. I hated who I was in the moment, but I loved it at the same time. Just a couple’a gals livin’ life! Then the plane landed, and we wished each other luck and rolled our suitcases down the jet-bridge and went our separate ways. It was as if I didn’t know your ex-husband cheated on you with a stripper or that your son had been suspended for bringing a pellet gun to 6th grade and now none of the other Mom’s looked at you the same way.

Did I just have a one-flight stand? I kinda felt used.