The Airline Dream

            I am walking through an airport, and find myself re-directed to a smaller concourse and then out across the tarmac to a small turbo-prop airliner. It is old looking, and we have to cross the cold gusty asphalt and then climb up a rickety ladder to board. N is not happy about the ladder. The burn marks and grease stains swept back from the cowling and wheel well doors make the craft look well worn and not often cleaned up. The windows, once we get inside, are yellowed Plexiglas and scratched and foggy with age. The vinyl seats are showing their age with cracks and patches.

            The takeoff is smooth and without incident, we circle the airfield before heading north. The airfield is nestled in a desert valley between two jagged looking mountain ranges, both brown instead of green. This place is very familiar; I have flown in and out of it many times, sometimes at the yoke of the plane, and sometimes, like tonight, as a passenger. N closes her eyes, she doesn't like the tight climbing turn we have to make to gain enough altitude to get out of the narrow valley over the mountains.

            Once we are in the air things are much calmer. I recognize the stewardess, she is a former "erotic" model. I think she looks better with a few pounds on her. She can tell I recognized her, but I just smile and treat her politely. Once we are off the plane the stewardess thanks me for not making a big deal of her past.

            "I 'm glad to see you're healthy and happy."

            She says she’s lucky, many of her acquaintances were not so fortunate.

            "That probably had more to do with the nature of the person," and "you're more delightful in person, as a real person than as a fantasy."

            We wished her continued success and that we hoped to see her on our way back home.

            She asked if there was anyplace cool to go while she was there, so we told her about the Wild Animal Park and the Zoo plus KPFM and a couple of other places. N gave her one of her cards with our number on it.

 

Ad astra per technica,

FF