The spider and the fly
I AM INTRODUCING myself to the captain of my flight. We are standing in the doorway of the cockpit before the passengers board. He is tall, lanky, confident. He is extraordinarily handsome, not just attractive but uncommonly so, and I can’t help but notice. He tells me his name is Chris McDonald. I am somewhat taken aback but continue to politely discuss the upcoming flight with him while thinking to myself, THE Chris McDonald? I know of him, but have never met him.
Many of my young flight attendant friends have Chris McDonald stories. He has broken many, many flight attendant hearts in his progression up and down the seniority list and I have heard variations of the same story many, many times. I’ve comforted and consoled my despondent flight attendant friends as best I could, have dried oceans of tears and listened to thousands of sob stories. I firmly disliked that cad Chris McDonald even though I had never met him. Until today.
On the airplane, I am cool to him, professional, but not very friendly. At one point during the flight, the copilot comes out of the cockpit for a bathroom break. I am required to wait in the cockpit with Chris until the copilot returns. Awkwardly, not knowing what to say or do in the cramped space of the flight deck, I ask Chris what he flew in the military. Very modestly, almost under his breath, he replies “U-2.” I look at him in amazement and say, “U-2? You flew the U-2??”
I know all about the U-2 spy plane, have even seen it once in Osan, Korea when I was working military charters for Flying Tigers. There are maybe two former U-2 pilots at Delta out of 8,000 pilots. It is a very, very exclusive fraternity. I instantly warm up to Chris. We start talking about airplanes, the U-2, Korea, deployments, kimchi. Chris is very charming, unpretentious, not at all what I thought he would be like based on my girlfriends’ experiences with him socially and romantically.
I feel myself being pulled into his web, just like every other woman in his path. He is incredibly charismatic, steadily holds my gaze with his startlingly blue eyes, listens carefully to everything I say. He makes me feel like our conversation is the most interesting discussion he has had in a long time and I am the most fascinating woman he has ever met.
I hear myself stammer.
