I was about halfway through a flight to Las Vegas when I first saw her. She had been working the front of the plane when we took off, but for some reason had switched with the flight attendant in my mid-cabin section (I usually sit just behind the wing.
She walked past me the first time, and with a glance, I was already in thrall. The slightly older woman was a little heavier than me; short, dark red hair framed her face perfectly. Upon watching her check the back of my section and return, I discovered that she had a really nice body to go along with her hair. She was a little heavy, like I said before, but just enough to complement a nicely curved ass, accentuated beautifully by her dark khaki uniform pants. Her chest rounded out nicely but not quite strained her neatly pressed white short-sleeved dress shirt, of which she had two buttons open at the top.
Thinking that she would at least continue up to the emergency exit row where another attendant was standing, I continued to watch her hips sway slightly as she walked up the narrow aisle of the 737. Suddenly, she turned around and saw my head sticking out.
Shit.
The flight attendant from heaven, whose coveted golden wings I could now see read "Rachel", walked over to my seat and smiled at me. "Did you need something?" she inquired.
I shook my head and muttered, "No, thanks," sliding back into my seat. I could feel the tips of my ears turning red like they did when I got embarrassed. How stupid did I look just then?
Rachel passed me again, rather quickly. Great, she was probably going to go laugh it off in the galley. I took a sip of my drink and cursed my bad luck.
A few minutes later she returned. "Here's another napkin, just in case," she told me, and laid it on the tray table. What the fuck?
As the captain made the announcement that we were beginning our final descent, I idly flipped the napkin over, wondering if the airline had changed the pattern since the last time I'd flown. There was no change; however, underneath the airline's route map was a phone number, Rachel's name, and the instructions to call in an hour. Now what had I gotten myself into?
I quickly shoved the napkin into my pocket before the fat grandma that had been working my section before came by to collect the trash. As we landed a billion different scenarios flew through my head. This was going to be one hell of a night.
I made it off the plane (not without Rachel smiling at me again on the way out, though) and outside in about ten minutes, thankful that I hadn't checked any baggage. There was even a shuttle waiting as promised, and within a half an hour I'd checked into my room at the MGM Grand.
The first thing I had to do was make up a huge excuse. I was supposed to be meeting up with a friend who had already arrived; we were planning on several days of hanging out and generally being stupid. Upon realizing that my cell phone a) worked and b) had the area code for L.A., I instantly called and, thank God, got voicemail. I left a message making an excuse that the flight was overbooked or something and I couldn't make it until the next morning.
Hoping she believed it, I shut my phone off and checked my watch. Fuck, that hour had gone fast. I looked at Rachel's number again and noticed it was long distance, which meant I had to turn my phone back on, and stop beating around the bush in case my friend decided to call me back. I took a deep breath and dialed.
"Hello?" she answered after a few rings.
"Hi, I'm not even sure if this is the right number... you gave it to me on the plane?"
Rachel laughed. "Hey, thanks for actually calling. What's your name, by the way?"
"Amanda."
"Cool. Listen, if you want to go through with this, I'm at the Luxor, room 1246."
I grinned. "What time is good for you?"
"I don't care, come over now if you want."
"Okay." An idea came to me suddenly."Hey, can I ask a favor really quick?"
"Sure."
"Can you leave your uniform on?"
Rachel laughed again. "See you in a few minutes," she said tantalizingly, and hung up.
I decided that what I was wearing would have to do - jeans and a T-shirt - grabbed my room key and my wallet and left the room. I walked down through the casino (briefly wishing that I could gamble for a few minutes), out into the blazing Vegas heat (why hadn't I worn shorts?), through the Excalibur (more slots taunted me), and grabbed the monorail over to the Luxor.
I tried to get out safely but got crushed in the sardines/tourists getting off the tram. Stupid sheep. I finally entered the pyramid and immediately spotted Rachel standing in front of one of the giant King Tut heads that graced the atrium.
"Hey," she greeted me. "I forgot that there were fucking guards that check your key, so I had to come down and get you."
