July 25, 2017:
20C lies to his wife. "I can't talk right now I'm on another call..." Then, "I love you very much," which seems equally doubtful.
Mister Muscles wrestles bags into the overhead, his and Missus Muscles, the two of them yoga toned and limber and strikingly deficient in body fat. But he has not removed the heavy daypack from his back, and as he pivots toward the aisle it smacks a seated passenger whack across the nose. Apologies ensue but you wonder how such a sporty fellow was born with such poor grasp of his location in space.
The pretty flight attendant winks privately. We know each other from the hotel bar, which we closed last night after hours of beer & convo. At that time we did not choose to keep each other company in one or another of our rooms. We did exchange numbers. Will we ever pass this way again?