The 1% (Of Good Flight Stories)

Okay, I feel like I jipped you with one of my "false exaggerations." Now let me tell you a "real" story of "romance."

I boarded my delayed flight late to come home on Sunday night after not so much as talking to a single guy all weekend (and down-right ignoring the advances of a few creepsters at the train station).

Deeply focused on finishing up my trip photo editing before my computer died, I didn't even notice when the guy sitting next to me showed up. In English (I am assuming he thought I looked French and went with the common language) he explained that there wasn't room in the overhead bins for his (large) carry-on suitcase and asked if he could put it under my seat.

You know when you hear stories about a friend of a friend sitting next to the hottest guy ever and they totally hit it off? And you always think "Lucky!! That never happens to me!

Well I was that girl. And it was just as amazing as you can imagine.

More or less my soul mate.

My seatmate was by far the hottest German in the history of Germany. Sure, The German was good looking. But yeah, no comparison. I cannot accurately capture his handsomeness with words so I'm just going to say he was like a blue-eyed, much taller, more approachable David Beckham. I am getting weak in the knuckles just typing this. Swoon.

Not only was he gor-ge-ous, he was also charming with a capital C. And we had good banter about the bag situation. Had any other person tried to take away a square inch of my precious leg room I would have been full of hate. In this situation I was happy to oblige. I am so shallow.

Anyway, after great conversations about our mutual love for New York (he lived there for a few months), we landed. As we disembarked, I secretly regretted not giving him my contact info. I mean, why not, right? What do I have to lose? Well, forgetting what a POS airport Tegel is, I no sooner found myself forced to squeeze in next to him on a bus taking us to the terminal. HOORAY!!! LIFE IS FULL OF SECOND CHANCES!!

I seized the crap out of the carpe diem and offered him my name in case he wants to Facebook me. (I really had to hold my self back from offering to marry him for his green card so he could live in New York like he wants to. Seriously.)

I recognize there is a miniscule chance I will ever see him again. But who knows, maybe I am the 1%?

(In terms of meeting your soul mate on a flight, not monetarily, unfortunately.)