Dumb Luck Read online

  Oops! “My apologies GC,” I laugh. “You’re still not impressing anyone here.” To make it even better, the crowd picks up on it and joins in laughing at him, calling ‘JC,’ ‘you prick,’ ‘asshat,’ etcetera. I am particularly fond of the ‘asshat’ comment. All this attention apparently is what causes GC to turn that pretty shade of purple as the officer tries to corral him through security.

  By the time we finish with the drama set in motion by Mr. Wonderful - excuse me, GC - I am only five people from the front of the line. I suppose I should be grateful to him for the distraction, but...no. He’s a dick...er..’asshat.’

  So after I capture my gear on the other side of security and put my clothes back on, I walk down to the Dunkin Donuts to get what passes for coffee in the Hartford airport before heading to the gate.

  I sit, drink my coffee, and scroll through my emails on my cell. The client I was visiting in Hartford liked the proposal, but they wanted to add some additional scope to it. I am waiting for answers to some questions to update my proposal, but it is too early to expect it yet. On the positive side, I find a request for a new quote from an existing client. I read through that email and skim requirements before I hear the pre-board call for first class. I love rewards for frequent fliers!

  I show my boarding pass to the agent and enter the jetway when I hear my friend GC. Absolutely lovely. It’s too much to hope that he would fly coach; so, I resign myself to having to listen to him spew forth the entire route to Philly. I manage to get to the aircraft, show my pass to the lovely young flight attendant, put my roll bag overhead, and put my butt into seat 2C without hearing anything else from Mr. Wonderful. The same pretty flight attendant, Erica according to her badge, takes my drink order with a heart-stopping smile as I pull out my iPad to make some notes on the new proposal. As I pull up the requirements document, I hear that familiar voice again gushing, “We were made for each other! I am rich. I am important. I am a very attractive, well-connected man than can provide you with a fabulous life! You are beautiful and will look great on my arm! You are everything I could ask to compliment me, and I know I am the man to fulfill your destiny. Sweetheart, we are a match made in Heaven!”

  Mr. Wonderful’s dream girl? OK, this bears investigation.

  Oh my! I cast my gaze on a brunette beauty. She has a curvy, fit figure with shoulders slightly narrower than her hips, pert breasts, and a narrow waist. A black on white print sleeveless dress clings to her figure with a hem ending about 2” above her knees. A black blazer rests over her slender shoulders, and she wears 3” heels. Her rich, wavy, walnut-brown hair frames her face in a bouncy halo that just brushes her shoulders. A sharp widow’s peak points down a high forehead between high, arched eyebrows to medium-wide cheekbones bisected by a fine nose. Her full lips rest in a gentle frown above her squared point of a chin.

  I could understand what had GC all excited, but really...the guy has no game at all!

  Just after she appears a slimy hand lands on her right shoulder. I’m actually assuming it’s slimy based on 1) it apparently belongs with GC’s face that appears immediately after the hand, and 2) the way she grimaces and rapidly twists out from under the offending appendage. Erica manages to insinuate herself between the two of them, allowing the brunette vision to make her way to her seat.

  She steps up next to seat 1C and gives me an apologetic look. Her eyes are a mesmerizing, piercing grey! She points towards 2D and says in a honeyed voice, “I’m so sorry, but that’s my seat!”

  Damn! I just won the neighbor lottery!

  As I rise out of my seat to make room, I reply “No problem at all, and if you leave your roll bag, I’ll put it in the bin for you.” I step into the aisle to let her pass with my best ‘Vanna White’ presentation towards her seat.

  “Ah! Thank you. An old-fashioned gentleman,” she says looking up into my eyes with the smallest of smiles.

  “I do what I can, Ma’am.”

  The flight attendant, Erica again, is standing behind the bag in front of GC looking over her right shoulder. She cuts quite a lovely figure as she tells GC, “Sir, just a little patience please. You won’t get there any faster if you push me over.”

  I think ‘man, I am surrounded by loveliness today,’ as I hoist my seat mate’s light roll-aboard bag into the bin.

  Erica turns towards me as she steps through with her right foot, gives me a quick roll of her eyes before pasting a patently fake smile on her face as she turns back to my friend GC.

  As I start descending into my seat, GC slavers, “You’re in my seat, asshole.”

  I look up at him and yes, he is literally slavering like a rabid dog. He is also pointing his finger at me! Really?

  I look him in the eye and stand again, handing my boarding card to Erica. “Nope, I’m in 2C.”

  “I don’t care. You’re sitting next to her; so, that is my seat!” Spittle actually flew out of his mouth! His lips are still dripping with it!

  I was thinking ‘Dude! Get yourself under control!’ when his right hand snakes out to take my boarding card from Erica. I choose to let him go for the boarding card, and I take a short step forward with my left foot while snaking my right hand over his, letting my fingers grab over the edge into the palm of his hand. Then holding tightly onto the flesh of his hand, I twist my torso slightly to my right while I straightening my wrist and setting my thumb into the back of his hand. This results in JC’s hand pointing towards me, curled slightly back towards him. He has so far managed to loosely hold onto my board card, but his other hand is starting to move. I thought, ‘Apparently dick-head had some training. Careful, Home Team!’ His left hand rises to hammer a fist at me as I place my left hand behind his right elbow, anchoring my elbows close to my body. As his fist starts to move, I twist my torso back to my left while shifting my weight slightly more forward to my left foot and pressing my thumb into the center of his hand and down.

  At that point GC gasps, drops my boarding card, and rapidly loses his will to hit me. He is currently leaning into 1C, with the seat back under his shoulder. ‘Oh goodie! He’s making this easier.”

  Erica, God bless her please, bends down to pick up my boarding pass as I address GC.

  “GC, I know you’re ‘somebody’ and all that, but really...no one cares. Especially when you are rude to everyone, and go around manhandling women like they’re furniture. I don’t know why GC Fremont the second or first didn’t love you enough to teach you manners, but you’re going to have to man-up and learn it now all on your own.”

  “Let go of me, Asshole! Go to Hell! You are impinging my rights! You are in my seat!” I stop listening to him and...oh, his hand really is kind of slimy! Ew!

  I give the wrist lock a little more love - maybe a little more than was strictly necessary. I couldn’t have his slimy hands sliding out of it, could I? I judge that there is little risk of me tearing or breaking something based on how GC was propped up and not fighting much - given this doesn’t carry on too long.

  Then I feel a warm hand on the back of my right shoulder.

  ‘Damn! I didn’t even hear her move! You are losing your shit, Home Team! Getting old and careless!’ I look over my shoulder and raise an eyebrow.

  She leans as close to my ear as she could with the confined quarters and whispers towards my ear, “You seem to be acquainted with my admirer. Do you happen to know his full name?” ‘Damn! She smells great!’

  Twisting as close to her ear as I could without giving GC any relief, I told her “Gerald Charles Fremont the third.”

  She removes that lovely hand from my shoulder at that point. I deal with my loss by turning back to my prisoner. Erica is just rising to stand up with my boarding pass. The male flight attendant at the front is holding the rest of the boarding passengers from entering further than the flight deck. GC continues to squirm, but between the wrist lock, the seat back, and having all his weight leaning forward in the seat he really can’t go anywhere.

  My seatmate places a
hand on either side of GC’s face. She says, “Gerald Charles Fremont the third” in a clear, warm voice. GC stops cold.

  At that point Erica says, “Your eyes are green!” I hear my seatmate whispering to GC at that point.

  “Only when I’m excited,” I respond to Erica while keeping an eye on GC. GC’s face is shining like reflected moonlight from a window.

  “I’d like to see more of that.” ‘Important stuff to the left!’ I turned my face to the left, looking down into Erica’s deep, dark eyes.

  “We’ll have to see what can be arranged,” I reply. She rewards me with that same heart-stopping smile.

  “I’d like that,” she responds, “but, for now I think you’ll have your hands full with that one,” as she points with her chin to my seatmate with a grin. “However, please do call me next time,” as she adds her business card to my boarding pass, and puts them both in my left blazer pocket. Her smile is slaying me. Then I feel that warm hand on my shoulder again. ‘Heaven! I’m in Heaven! Surrounded by beauties, can’t you see!’ OK, that song lyric needs a little work.

  I hear that clear warm voice again, “You can let Gerald go now. He’s going to sit quietly in his reserved seat for the rest of the flight.”

  “OK. GC, I’m going to slowly unwind your wrist to minimize damage. Please keep your weight suspended from your armpit on the seat back. Then we’ll get you stood up and on your way.”

  “O-kay,” is his dreamy response; so, I do just that.

  Erica mouths a “thank you” at me, and then she asks, “May I see your boarding pass, Mr. Fremont?”

  Another dreamy “O-kay” from GC.

  Erica says, “You’re in seat 1C, Mr. Fremont. Please put all of your property in the bin as you’re on the bulkhead.”

  GC placidly gets himself situated after another dreamy “O-kay.” I wait until he finishes, as I don’t trust him. I wonder if maybe we could put GC in the bin and put his bags in his seat. There’s probably some FAA regulation against that.

  GC sits down, and I turn to my seatmate to give her what I hope is an apologetic smile as I take my seat. “I don’t know what you did to him, but he’s as agreeable as can be. I need you to teach me how to do that.”

  Her eyes light with mischievous glee as her lips sketch a warm smile. “Sorry, I was just born with mad skills.” After a short pause she extends her right hand adding, “I’m Myra. Myra Nessus.”

  “Jack. Jack Jerome,” I respond with a chuckle as I turn my back to the aisle. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Do you get accosted on airplanes often?

  She swallows her chuckle back into a groan as she throws her head back and rolls her eyes. “Goddess, no. I get accosted everywhere!”

  “Really! How interesting. I don’t suppose it has anything to do with you cutting loose with sexy moans like that in public, does it?”

  “Sexy, huh?” she smirks. “I figured your sexy radar was attuned to your hot little flight attendant.”

  “She is my type,” I respond with a smirk of my own.

  “Oh? You have a ‘type?’

  “Yep! Pretty ladies. I’m a sucker for ‘em. My new friend Erica is a fine example, but then again, so are you!”

  At that point she smiles brightly enough to replace the cabin lights. She was really getting into this game! “Oh really? That is sweet. So, what do you like about your friend Erica? Her pretty dusky skin? Her gorgeous combination of African, Asian, and Caucasian features?”

  “I didn’t pick up on the Asian.”

  “Her silky dark hair? Maybe it’s her strong, lean legs or her firm, round bum? Maybe her flat stomach and perky, large breasts?

  “I must confess...all the above and more. Although, I am happy her breasts are only grapefruit-sized. I’m firmly in the ‘more than a handful or a mouthful is too much’ camp.”

  “Oh really?

  “Really. And ‘bum?’ I don’t hear that frequently on this side of the pond. By the way, did you notice how her eyes dilated and her nostrils flared when I was close? Very enticing. I wonder if she cataloged your assets as thoroughly as you did hers. She was pointing me in your direction. I may have to take you with me when I go on the hunt.”

  “That might be fun.” Then she looks over my shoulder and says, “Well Erica, did you catalog my assets as well as I did yours?”

  A slim hand slides down my shoulder to rest on my pec as a pair of firm breasts cradle my head. Erica’s voice flows down softly from over my head, “No darling. I was distracted by the drama; although, I did rather admire your hindquarters as I walked behind you. I’d be happy to do a more thorough survey given an opportunity.” I can hear the smile in Erica’s voice and see Myra’s, too. Oh what fun!

  I lean back into Erica’s breasts and look up, “So, she has a fine motor, huh? I’m afraid I didn’t get a very good view. Can you describe it for me?”

  “Maybe another time, dear man. We’re clear to let the rest of the passengers board. Duty calls. Later my lovelies.” My head suddenly catches a chill.

  I sit back into my seat, and look over at Myra. “Well that went somewhere completely unexpected.” She giggles. Really? This beautiful, poised woman giggled! Laughing, I say, “Wow...I would never have figured you for a giggler.”

  She escalates from giggles to laughter as the rest of our fellow passengers troop by, “Right? Who knew?”

  “With giggles and laughter like that it’s no wonder you get accosted all the time. You really need better security. Maybe get a posse.”

  “Be careful,” she chuckles again with that mischievous grin, “I might have to hire you.”

  “I’m not really in the market, but I confess I’m tempted nonetheless.”

  I see Erica approaching out of the corner of my eye. She leans over me to address Myra with “I’m sorry ma’am, in all the fun I totally forgot your drink order.”

  “Oh please,” says Myra. “Let’s dispense with the ‘ma’am,’ shall we. After all the fun we’ve had, I think you can call me Myra. Oh, and I’d love a sparkling water or club soda or such. Only one ice cube and a twist of lime, please.”

  “Of course, Myra dear. I’ll be back in a flash.” Then she leaves us with another brilliant smile.

  I pull my iPad out of the seat crack where it landed in the middle of the GC altercation, and put it in the seat back. Then I sit back in the seat with closed eyes and take in a cleansing breath.

  I feel a warm finger touch my hand on the seat rest. Opening my eyes, I notice Myra’s hand resting on mine. She too is sitting back in her seat with her eyes closed and her face turned in my direction. I drink the site and scent of her in for a moment, and then her eyes slowly open. She looks me in the eyes for a long moment, and then closes her eyes again. I roll my hand over; so, her fingers now rest in the palm of my hand. A hint of a smile sketches across her lips, but otherwise she doesn’t move. I stay facing her, and close my eyes, too.

  After a while, Erica arrives with our drinks. “Sorry to interrupt your intimate moment dear ones, but I thought you might like these before I have to come around and pick up the service.”

  Myra and I squeeze each other’s fingers and then withdraw our hands. Erica does the little tray presentation dance to first Myra, and then myself. I notice there is a phone number on Myra’s napkin, too.

  I look up at Erica, and she says with a chuckle, “Don’t be jealous darling. I already gave you my card. This was just faster.” She caresses my shoulder then dashes off.

  Myra gives me another of her wicked looks over the rim of her glass as she takes a sip of her drink, cocks her right eyebrow and says, “I think she likes me better.”

  Thankfully I had just swallowed the sip of Bloody Mary mix I had just taken. I cock my own eyebrow as I look at her quietly for a moment. As she takes another sip I say, “Well, she did let me use her breasts for a pillow.”

  Myra snorts out her nose and clamps a hand over her mouth as she tries to control her laugh. I set down my drink and take hers out of her han
d, so she can deal with the aftermath of my perfectly timed riposte.

  I take another sip of my drink as she regains her composure. She lightly taps my arm and says, “You are dangerous!”

  “Only to myself.”

  “I don’t buy that for a minute,” she says as she points to the seat in front of me. I just shake my head.

  “So, does your journey end in Philadelphia?,” she asked.

  “I certainly hope not. I’m planning to live for a good long time.” She graces me with a chuckle. “No, actually I’m flying to Phoenix. I live there for now.”

  “Oh! I’m flying to Phoenix, too. The 11:52 flight? What seat?” She asked as she reached for her portfolio. I pull up my phone.

  “Yes, that’s the flight. I think I’m one row back.” I pull up my details and confirm, “Yes. Seat 3C.”

  “I don’t believe it. I’m in 3D.”

  “Wow! OK, I’m going to spend $100 on lottery tickets when we land. With luck like this, one of them is bound to be the jackpot.”

  “So, if Erica is our flight attendant on that flight, then what?”

  “Well then, I only need to buy one.” I say with a deadpan face. We stare at each other for about a 3-count, and then we burst out laughing again.

  I shut off my phone, and put it away. I really can’t believe my luck today. I rarely click with women easily. I’ve gotten better as I’ve aged, but it’s never easy. Today I’ve managed to connect well with two first thing in the morning.

  “You said you live in Phoenix for now. Are you planning to move?”

  “I’m looking. I work for myself as a consultant, and Phoenix is a great city for road warriors due to having a major hub for two airlines and mostly great weather for travelers. You know, few weather delays. But my clients are getting more expense conscious. As a result, the percentage of days that I work from home is rising. As a result, I am looking to move to some place that is more permanent and more wild. Trees, pastures, and hills would be ideal. Where do you live?”

  She tilts her head slightly and purses her lips as she thinks about that. “I don’t really have a home, per se. I travel from place to place dealing with problems for the organization I represent. I usually just stay in some of our quarters adjacent to the offices. I used to have a place outside of Joplin, Missouri,” she points to me, “close to KCI. I gave it up when I discovered that I had failed to return to it in over a year and I hadn’t missed it. For the last three years I have spent more time in Chicago than anywhere else, but that really translates to a week here and there. I’ll probably spend the rest of the year in Sedona.”