Best flightmate I ever had was a young Polish pianist on a very selective performance tour. He was eager to practice his English, and I'm sure, to be reassured Americans weren't going to eat him. Although he was quite delectable, I refrained. He was charming, and my quest to put him at ease and make his conversation easier made the flight pass quickly.
Natter 67: Overriding Vetoes
Off-topic discussion. Wanna talk about corsets, nail polish, duct tape, or physics? This is the place. Detailed discussion of any current-season TV must be whitefonted.
The more invasive the questions, the further from the truth my answers.
Seriously, all it is is, "Hi, my name is Trudy" and an extended hand before or after my crotch and/or ass ends up in their face on my way to my window seat.
I've never heard a ghost story where the pets didn't go absolutely bonkers. Not even one.
DH once had a seat neighbor ask him if he had accepted Jesus Christ as his savior. He said that he had, but that his wife was having trouble making that decision. He's lucky I didn't kill him right then and there.
Heh. I just would never say he can do no wrong.
*coughAWinter'sTalecough*
Liese, you were relaxed enough to get a glimpse of the other universe. The other SO wears slippers.
Just got back from Noah's xmas program which was an EPIC fail. During rehearsals he was a super loud enthusiastic singer, so they put him front and center. He proceeded to meltdown, screaming NO at the top of his lungs, growling and stomping his feet. Through the ENTIRE performance.
He told me there were ghosts there and there were too many people and he wanted them to go away.
Poor little guy. Implosion is ugly.
Poor noodle. Owen has to wear these giant, noise cancelling headphones at any singing event at school--even at music class. he can't stand the noise.
By the way, driving back from derby tonight, the thermostat his -12 degrees. Brrrrr.
Seriously, all it is is, "Hi, my name is Trudy" and an extended hand before or after my crotch and/or ass ends up in their face on my way to my window seat.
Oh, that would get an honest hi and probably my name.
It's the people who keep asking questions where there is no conversational spark or interest from my side. They get fictions spun for them.
DH once had a seat neighbor ask him if he had accepted Jesus Christ as his savior. He said that he had, but that his wife was having trouble making that decision.
Cheeky. And brave. And lucky you let him live.
I am sometimes quite chatty, and sometimes totally silent. Depends on my mood and my seatmate.
I try not to make eye contact. If my seatmate greets me, I nod and smile. If they continue to try to talk to me, I will respond a little as is polite, then start reading a book. If they keep going, I get out the earbuds.
Of course, all bets are off if it's a hot guy.
It's the people who keep asking questions where there is no conversational spark or interest from my side. They get fictions spun for them
Sighhh... one of the five reasons I should be famous.
(Would make up lies to nosy questions, would give my kids super-soakers full of ink for paps, would move into an apartment with big-ass windows and walk around naked for a week until all the paps got it out of their systems, would comission limited edition works of art for all those Christmas presents I'm supposed to give to the other shiny people, would buy bling for my friends.)