I met a cutie on the plane from Philly to New York yesterday. I struggled with my carry-on luggage as I saw that there was barely any room left in the overhead compartment at my seat and I didn’t quite know what to do. (Is it rude to take up someone else’s overhead compartment space?) My lack of height didn’t help so he offered help. He stuffed my slightly too long floppy roller suitcase at an angle to get it to fit. I immediately noticed that he was good looking and that he filled the seat right next to mine. A little young, seeing his carefully spiked fringe and boyish glasses, but very good looking nonetheless. I felt foolishly nervous and self-conscious about the way I was shoving my backpack and coats under the seat in front of me. He made conversation about how the overhead compartments are always tiny in small planes and proceeded to ask if I was from California. “Just cos I’m Asian?!” I thought in my head but he referred to my backpack that had “Santa Barbara” embroidered on it. I decided to take out my crocheting so that I would have something to do with my hands.
He moved from Texas a couple weeks ago for a marketing and PR job in the Big Apple. As we made friendly conversation, I wondered what lay beyond this young man’s cute smile and sparkly eyes. That must have been one heck of an opportunity to move across the country for it. How immensely exciting. It felt as if I was meeting a character from a movie. A young man starting a career in the city on his own; so much is set to change, I imagine.
He had a black coat over his maroon hoodie which he never took off throughout the entire flight while I furiously stripped off my coats and scarf upon boarding the plane because it was so warm. Maybe he always felt cold. He told me he’ll be looking at a possible apartment an hour after landing, a couple blocks south of Central Park. The plane landed earlier than we expected and we exchanged well wishes. I headed for ground transportation. He headed for baggage claim.
He looked like a Daniel.