Ah yes, the airplane trip: a dependable source of frustration, humor and shared germs. Squished carry-ons, people who won’t turn off their cell phones, talkers who want to yak in your ear, and the incessant coughing that turns the aircraft into a flying petri dish. Yet it gets us where we want to go, and by and large, it’s all just fine. Every safe landing is a happy landing, I like to say.
None of which keeps me from laughing about some of the escapades we experience or witness in flight.
On a recent trip home from Sacramento, I changed planes in Phoenix. After most of us were in our seats, our intrepid and unflappable flight attendant, Shonda, brought a young boy of 9 or 10 aboard. She seated him in the aisle seat in the row across from me. As a result, I was treated to the following overheard conversation.
Wait—I got ahead of myself. I was seated on the aisle, too, and the young boy shared his row with an older couple; the wife was at the window, and the husband was in the center seat. Now, back to the
Boy: My last name’s a color. Guess it.
Man: My last name’s a position—guess it.
Man: (Chuckling) No. What’s the opposite of right?
Boy: Do you live in Phoenix? We live in Mesa.
Man: I live on the opposite side of Phoenix in Sun City.
Boy: Sin City?
Man: No, Sun City, like the sun shines in the sky.
Boy: I thought you said ‘sin’ and sin is bad.
[Oh great—this poor man’s in for a 3 ½ hour lecture on original sin and the evil nature of man from a 9-year old, proving once again that no good deed goes unpunished.]
It got real quiet in their row after that.