I always get to sit next to the interesting folks on the flight to Kansas City. I've done it fourteen times now, and I've had an adventure almost every time.
The return flights are usually normal. I attribute this to the fact I'm headed home.
--
One time, I was kept company by a gentleman whose last name was Pigg. I won't use his first name, because Darryl seemed nice and I'd hate to embarrass him.
He had a red mullet and thin pigtail. His left eye wandered around, looking for adventures his right one couldn't take.
He was fidgety, and talked faster than I could listen.
We talked about work for a bit, and then about Kansas City. He'd lived there most of his life, and knew the town like the back of his hand. He asked where I was staying and how long I'd be there.
I lied, of course. Something in the back of my mind told me to be careful.
Darryl told me where I was staying was too expensive, and he could find me somewhere cheaper.
"No thanks. We're getting a good rate and work pays for it. It's close to where I need to be."
"Then you should stay with me, man."
"Thanks for the offer, but I think I'll pass."
"Well, if you change your mind, then you should call me. Here's my name and number."
"Um, thanks. I'll keep it in mind."
"You should call me anyway. What are you doing tonight?"
"Uh, I think I have to work tonight."
"What's your number, man? I'll call you tomorrow and we can hang out. You can come over to my place."
"Ooh, sorry - tomorrow's the big meeting. Can't make it. Thanks, though."
"No problem. What was your number?"
"Uh, I don't have one."
"What's your problem, man?"
*I don't want to end up on a meat hook in your basement, Darryl. THAT'S my problem!*
"What? I can't hear you. Music's too loud!"
*I hastily plop in my headphones and pray for the landing.*
