I’m sitting at the gate for my flight to Boston (there’s a whole story in how I got here, but more on that later). And I’m terrified to find out who my seat neighbor is going to be.
Here’s the thing. There’s a girl here who has no mental sensors AT ALL. She’s talking to a poor guy she’s cornered, and she won’t shut up. She’s told the room at large her full name (middle name included), her birth date (she’s turning 29 next month, just so you know), where she lives, her favorite color, her roommates’ names, her parents’ names, … well, you get the idea. She’s also never been to Disney Land (that was apropos of nothing, by the way, because that’s not where she’s going today). Oh, and here’s a tidbit you didn’t need to know. Her father teases her by telling her she’s not his child. “But I know better,” she says, “It takes two to make a baby.” Oookayyyy…
Now she’s wondering if it rains on planes, since they’re so high up off the ground. She’s already chastised her friend for taking a picture of her, saying, “How much is it going to cost me to develop those pictures!?!”
[Update: She ended up sitting a glorious 21 rows away from me! Believe me, I’m grateful.]