"Sir, please step over here, we're going to need to check your bag."
This was the absolute last thing I wanted to hear today. This was still my first year in the real working world, having just graduated from college last spring, and the consulting firm whose name now graced my business card had been in Chicago on business for the last few days, and it had not gone well. As the junior analyst in the team, much of the pre-meeting work had fallen to me, and I had spent the last few weeks putting together various presentations and documents to present to the client. But come time for the meeting, and the director on the team had decided to call an audible and completely change the plan, unbeknownst to the rest of the team. In the end, it was a disaster, and we all walked away looking like idiots. Now all I wanted to do was get home to L.A.
"Sir, do you have any liquids or gels in here?"
"No, Ma'am, just clothes and files."
The female TSA agent roamed her arm around in my bag for a few more seconds before she zipped it back up and said, "Thank you for cooperating, sir. Continue on."
As I grabbed by bag and climbed onto the escalator a few yards away that carried me up to the gate level, I thought randomly to myself, what happened to transportation as a customer service industry? Where are all the smiling, congenial faces and the customer-is-always-right attitude of yesteryear? Of course I'd watched a few episodes of Mad Men and seen the portrayals of sexy flight attendants in skimpy outfits. They would always ask "Is there anything else I can do to make your flight more enjoyable?" Well, wouldn't every man respond yes, there is, why don't you come back and have sex with me? I laughed thinking about this possibility in this day and age. Pretty sure you'd get slapped on the spot. Then sued for harassment. And that's only if you were lucky enough that the attendant wasn't a chubby gay dude as had been the case seemingly every time I had flown this year.
I eventually found my way to my gate, sat down nearby, and pulled out my laptop to check a few emails. My instagram feed showed a few pictures of my college friends out enjoying themselves at the beach. It had been a while since I'd had a free weekend and I was instantly jealous. The transition from college to working these long hours and traveling so much was difficult. Maybe the worst part was the effect it had had on my sex life. I'm a pretty well built guy, about 6'1 and 175 pounds, and I had had my fair share of girls in school. Whether it was at a fraternity party, day drinking at the pool, night out at the bars, I could usually find myself back in bed with a solid 8. Nowadays, there were rare nights I would get out of work in time to go out.
It wasn't long before the plane began boarding, so I collected my things and made my way through ticket check and onto the plane. When I stepped through the door and looked up, I was shocked to see a beautiful stewardess there to greet everyone.
She was young, couldn't have been more than a couple years out of school, similar to myself. And she was a hard 10. No doubt. I guessed she was about 5'6" or so, but stood taller in her 3 inch black heels. My eyes traced up, her sleek, tanned legs covered from just above the knee by her navy blue skirt and then her slim torso by the attendants jacket, but her chest stood out, a good amount of cleavage visible above the buttons of the jacket. Her brown hair rested just below her shoulders.
She smiled at me as I entered the plane. "Good evening, sir. Welcome aboard."
"Uhh...," I stammered, shortly regaining my composure after the initial surprise. "Thank you. Do you know if this is a full flight?"
"Not entirely," she replied. I thought I noticed her quickly give me a glance up and down. I thought. "There will be a few empty rows."
"Alright. Maybe I'll get lucky."
She chuckled a little. "You never know."
We both smiled as I turned and made my way down the aisle towards my seat. As I did, I started to think that having her to look at during this flight might just make up for my previous hassles with security. I had a window seat, 7F, and I found it and sat down. Now looking back towards the front of the plane, I stared at the young stewardess. She seemed to look in my direction once or twice, noticing where I was seated, but not making eye contact. I just watched as she greeted the boarding passengers and directed them to their seats.
The plane started filling up around me, and I hoped I would have the good fortune to get some extra space. But then I witnessed a particularly obese couple enter the plane, and the stewardess directed them right in my direction. As she did, she met my eyes, and I knew then this was not my day. Perhaps noticing my sudden look of horror, the stewardess laughed, and looked back again at me raising her eyebrows. It was one sexy look, but at that moment, I was not in the mood to see it. The obese couple made their way sure enough right to me and sat down in the middle and aisle seats, leaving me squished in against the window. This is miserable, I thought. Soon, the last of the passengers were getting seated, and I raised my hand to flag down the stewardess, hoping I could get out of this tight squeeze I was in.
"Yes, sir?"
"Uh, yes, are there still other open seats? Is there somewhere I can move?" I gestured with my head towards the masses sitting next to me. She smirked before replying.
