On a recent flight, I was lucky enough to be seated next to an empty seat – every traveler’s wet dream. So, of course I immediately asked my flight attendant, Harold Porridge, to plop down next to me for a chat. I like to learn about people! Harold’s a delightful man of about 50 years. He sports a blonde moustache and has a cherubic paunch that extends oh-so-gingerly over his belt line. We had a wonderful chat.
ME: So Harold, how long have you been in the flight game?
HP: Oh, gosh! Twelve years now.
ME: Well, you don’t look a day over 13!
HP: Hahahaha, that’s very cute. Cute AND funny.
ME: Thank you, Harold. Ever do something on the job you completely regret?
HP: I once urinated in a customer’s coffee. I’m not proud of that.
ME: Only once, Harold?
HP: OK --I urinated in his refill!
ME: Well that makes sense. Keeps the flavor consistent. Tell me, do you like what you do?
HP: Not particularly, no.
ME: Well, that must make it quite taxing, then.
HP: No, not especially.
ME: Now you’re just being a dick, Harold.
ME: That’s it? You don’t want to talk anymore?
HP: I think you could be a really good friend to me, but I would like to establish some ground rules.
ME: Do they involve me not calling you a dick?
HP: That is one rule I was drafting in my head, yes.
ME: I’m not interested, but thank you for your time!
I liked Harold almost as fast as I began to dislike him. When he left the seat next to me, I felt nothing. He kept glancing over at me throughout the rest of the flight but fuck him.