Ya wanna know something? In the course of all my airborne travel, I’ve never once been seated next to anyone I’d wanna schtup (with the notable exception of you-know-who, of course). In fact, over the years, there have only been one or two people I’ve even wanted to talk to. Now, those of you who know me, I’m sure you’re not surprised: I’m not exactly the sort of warm and fuzzy person who strikes up conversations with absolute strangers. In fact, of all my faults–and I have a number of ’em–the biggest is probably the general hauteur I project toward people I don’t know, keeping them at arm’s length and giving me a convenient excuse to keep the family pictures inside my wallet.
Still, that’s not to say I’m not open to making new friends on airplanes–or anywhere, for that matter–but would it kill JetBlue to seat someone cute in the aisle seat? At least get the ball rolling for me, that’s all I’m asking! I mean, what was up with that skinny, pimply, bologna sandwich-toting gothboy on Thursday, huh? Why not the chunkymonkey wopdaddy Jonno and I were checking out in the waiting area? Why not the guy in the snug-fitting black jeans with the H&M skinnyrockerboy sweater? Hell, why not the righteous babe with the blue Sony discman in one ear and the cell phone in the other? Huh? …Although to be fair, I guess I didn’t get seated next to the screaming 6-month old child, either…
Maybe one day the moon’ll be in the seventh house and I’ll get to initiate Jason Statham and Michael Milhoan into the mile-high club.
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