by Kelly Charlton

Created on: September 01, 2010

The Mile High Club…Sort Of

                When I was a kid, I never understood F. Scott Fitzgerald’s point at the beginning of The Great Gatsby when his main character, Nick Carraway discusses how abnormal minds are quick to find comfort in revealing themselves to anyone who appears willing to listen. I refused to listen to anyone who wanted to share their freakish, deviant tales primarily because I had my own stuff to deal with. However, after I hit thirty and started busting my cherry as a writer of deplorably bad teen fiction that actually sold, I realized that perhaps the freaks of this world could assist me as a writer. So, I started listening intently.

                I had just boarded American Airlines flight 222 flying from Ontario, California to Albuquerque, New Mexico where I was scheduled for a book signing. Taking my first-class seat on the aisle and buckling up, I ordered a Bacardi and Diet from my gorgeous, red-headed flight attendant and started to read Drinking, Smoking, and Screwing, the book of short stories and poems I had been trying to get to for over two months. I was well into the second story, when I felt a light tapping on my shoulder. Looking up, I saw a blonde woman standing next to me in the aisle.

                “Excuse me,” she said. “I believe you are in my seat.”

                “I don’t think so,” I replied, looking at my ticket.

                She reached into her Gucci purse, pulled out her ticket, and held it under my nose. She smelled like fresh, creamy, coconut oil. I got wet.

                Reaching for the ticket, I brushed her wrist with my hand. Such soft skin she had.

                “Wow. It appears the airline made a mistake. We were both assigned the same aisle seat.” I sniffed the air in what I hoped was a somewhat subtle manner. “How do you want to handle this?” I continued.

               

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