Ya wanna know something? In the course of all my airborne travel, I've never once been seated next to anyone I'd wanna schtup (with the notable exception of you-know-who, of course). In fact, over the years, there have only been one or two people I've even wanted to talk to. Now, those of you who know me, I'm sure you're not surprised: I'm not exactly the sort of warm and fuzzy person who strikes up conversations with absolute strangers. In fact, of all my faults--and I have a number of 'em--the biggest is probably the general hauteur I project toward people I don't know, keeping them at arm's length and giving me a convenient excuse to keep the family pictures inside my wallet.
Still, that's not to say I'm not open to making new friends on airplanes--or anywhere, for that matter--but would it kill JetBlue to seat someone cute in the aisle seat? At least get the ball rolling for me, that's all I'm asking! I mean, what was up with that skinny, pimply, bologna sandwich-toting gothboy on Thursday, huh? Why not the chunkymonkey wopdaddy Jonno and I were checking out in the waiting area? Why not the guy in the snug-fitting black jeans with the H&M skinnyrockerboy sweater? Hell, why not the righteous babe with the blue Sony discman in one ear and the cell phone in the other? Huh? ...Although to be fair, I guess I didn't get seated next to the screaming 6-month old child, either...
Maybe one day the moon'll be in the seventh house and I'll get to initiate Jason Statham and Michael Milhoan into the mile-high club.