After I buckle my seatbelt and open a book, waiting for the captain
to announce our departure, a flight attendant walks down the aisle and,
to my surprise, plops down into the open seat next to me.
“I'm flying home,” she explains. “Sometimes my route doesn't take me
back, so the airline flies me on the next available flight.”
A few minutes later, our actual flight attendant approaches and asks
if we'd like anything to drink. When he returns with my order, I say,
absently, “Thank you.”
But when my seatmate's order comes, she looks the flight attendant in the eye, smiles, and says, “Thank you so much.”
Maybe they know each other, I think. But as the flight progresses, it
becomes obvious that they are no more acquainted than she and I.
