This week Hayley tells us about her mile high romance…
Does sitting next to someone on an airplane count as a date? Probably not right? Well, I hope it does.
I love it when life surprises you with a serendipitous flirt, especially when you least expect it in your flight socks.
Mine and Adrian’s plane trip started just like any other, a few awkward glances and nods led to a couple of hours of silence and courteous sharing of the arm rest. The cotton wool packing of convention made sure everything was going nice and smoothly… and boringly. Then, he accidentally knocked his drink onto my lap.
It certainly got my attention if not immediately in a good way. Whilst I was gesturing for some hand towels, he was apologising for getting water on me and my book, Jane Austen’s Emma. But then he stopped, screwed up his face and with a supreme edge of judgement said: You’re not really reading that rubbish are you?
I immediately put up the defensive. Yes, I was and what was it to him? He just thought it was a little delusional was all. This got us started on a two hour disagreement on whether fantasy ruined relationships and as riled up as I was I was a hell of a lot more interested than I was when we were politely sharing an arm rest. And once natural conversation starts rolling it’s difficult to stop (which was lucky considering he had just destroyed my previous entertainment).
We took a romantic stroll up and down the aisle to the sweet melodies of children screaming and old men snoring. I felt confident wearing my best date outfit, which included leggings, a giant cardigan, no makeup and scraped back hair. We shared an intimate meal in row 53…a little too intimate. They really know how to squish you in together on these flights. But for some, mystical reason, it has to be the first time in the history of my life I have been sad to see a flight touch down. And it drove home the point that seems to keep finding its way to me – it isn’t about being impressive but about sharing your time and sharing your life. Human connection beats great dates any day. Those chance meetings are what life’s made of. So I’m going to live in hope that I’ve done Jane Austen proud, that he’s going to give me a ring ‘someday’ and that our romance lives on outside of limited leg room and fluorescent lighting!