A Man in First Class * Dame Mimi’s Airline Travel Romance

A Man in First Class * Dame Mimi’s Airline Travel Romance

Flying Away from a Disappointing Date in Paris

 

Reclining in my first class compartment, I can already feel the heat from the Caribbean sun on caressing my right cheek.  With my eyes closed I turn towards the window like a flower turning towards the sun, letting the warmth embrace me.  The sunlight melts the ice layered around my heart.  It must be a very thin layer this time, only one tear escapes when the ice melts.

 

 

As I wipe the tear away I also wipe away the disappointment of my botched date in Paris, and I am ready to enjoy this new day.  I allow my lips to upturn and part, and then I take a deep breath before inhaling a huge gulp of the ice-cold gin martini that I forgot I had in my hand.   And everyone knows the visceral response to that kind of fortifying sip…

 

 

Three things happened simultaneously: My seat shot bolt upright, the glass disappeared from my hand, and my eyes shot wide open.  I spluttered out my mouthful of martini (which was merely a sip in hindsight, because as you know ladies only sip) when I heard a throaty chuckle from behind.

 

I skewed my body to the left to grab that beautiful sparkling bag holding my handkerchiefs which I needed to remove the droplets of gin from my blouse when –

‘OMG Who is that!!!!!’

 

My eyes snapped back for a double-take at the gentleman seated two rows back. He looked like the kind of dreamy number you’d see in a movie – the old kind where men were still strong and romantic.

 

 

I must be more tipsy than I thought.

 

“Mad Men!” The thought popped into mind about a television show I have watched a few times. It’s set in a bygone age where men still wore handsome suits to work and travel, and everyone treated each other with more respect. At least in public… in private, well, you could get away with anything in those days as an affluent man.  Even very naughty things.

 

Suddenly I giggled, and realized I was still staring backwards, like a gawker.

 

“How embarrassing!” I thought as I quickly faced forward.  Not exactly a graceful swan today, are we Mimi?

 

I always get a little bit excitable when I’ve had a good martini.  This right here, was a very good martini.  I think resentfully of all the years I missed out on martinis, with the requisite three-olives for luck.  It mostly gets my mind off the fact I was just openly leering at a nice dish in First Class, all before appetizers.

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A touch at my elbow and my heart rate skyrockets so high I think I might have a stroke – but it’s just the stewardess with that appetizer.  A moment later she reappears, this time with another martini.

 

“Oh thank you darling, how sweet of you to notice,” I say, pretending my shirt wasn’t sopping inelegantly.

“Sorry madam, this is from the gentleman… in first class,” she adds, pointing backwards for clarity as I am staring at her dumbfounded.

 

“Thank you!” I say, not knowing what else to say.  I take the glass and, face turning absolutely red I’m sure, turn to toast the handsome man who had just seen me snort out the last one.

 

 

A Gorgeous Man Sending Me a Martini

 

That same deep chuckle again, and a wink.  Quickly I turn around, mouthing something along the lines of “Oh my GOD,” about fifty times to myself and stumbling not to spill anything.  I’m proud to say I succeeded.  I felt his eyes on me the whole time, so I tried to appear decorous and languidly sip the drink, instead of downing it in one go as I was so tempted to do.

 

Finally, a throat cleared behind me and I knew it was him.  I took one last bracing breath and turned to smile at my benefactor.  

 

“May I sit down?” he rumbled from what must have been six and a half feet of height.  A gentle giant, I liked that idea.  I stood to move into the open seat next to the window and he took my space.  It was a cozy fit, he was a very large man.

 

Sensing at once the need for more libation, the stewardess was immediately there to refresh our glasses.  We turned to each other to chuckle at her eagerness to please, and our eyes locked in an electric moment.  That last little shell of Parisian ice crumbled off of my heart, and that was all it took for me to rush foolishly into the breach.

 

 

A First Class Man, Flying First Class

 

One might add – I had a few martinis by this point, if you were counting.  I of course wasn’t!  I was too busy admiring this athletic giant of a man who said he enjoyed morning jogs as much as the opera.  He was in stocks or some business that he was enough of a gentleman not to bore me with, which I always appreciate.  We had a nice chat, overall, but really, nothing memorable.

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I assumed he was headed to the same island I was, but of course with my luck it turns out he was just on his way to a wedding on a private island.  I had been imagining OUR wedding on a private island, so I was more than a little crushed. 

 

Tall, dark and handsome just wanted to have a nice chat and was feeling a little lonely, being a frequent solo traveller.  I could desperately relate. I think he was trying to cheer me up after breaking the news, seeing how disappointed I was and all.   I thought was just the sweetest thing and might have ruined my karma by wishing ill on whoever was getting wed.

 

 

One Last Delicious Moment Together

 

Don’t you worry though, I always have one last hurrah left!  He was especially charming towards the end of the flight, perhaps now that we’d each gotten to know each other.  He was such a dear when I told him I was a little nervous on flights, and explained he was too. 

 

‘You can hold my hand if you get scared,’ he joked, but his eyes were twinkling at me suggestively.

 

I laughed it off, but then he took my hand in his, and traced his finger along my palm for just a second.  It was the most exquisite torture!  I hope I can say this, but he was obviously very, very good with his hands and wanted me to know it.

 

Not long after though, we had to prepare for our voyage to end.   The landing was extremely bumpy, and in genuine and perhaps martini-induced terror I did wantonly cling to his arm (and maybe his chest) during the worst of it.  He was rock solid and all that jogging really paid off, and I was considering chartering a plane to stalk him to his destination by that point. 

 

 

Just Before We Say Goodbye

 

I managed to pry myself off of him before the stewardesses came by, but just barely.  I felt a little tremor of hot tears welling up as I walked out of the plane, feeling his eyes on my back as I had earlier in the flight.  I would probably never see him again!  It was like it might never have happened at all!

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Suddenly, a genius idea awoke within me.  I stopped everything, flung around and said to him, breathless,

“We need to take a selfie.”

 

He chuckled in that deep and manly way of his, and politely stooped down as I tried to take a dozen awful shots of us.  Thankfully the stewardess almost immediately grabbed my camera and took several lovely shots, with and without flash.  She encouraged us to get a little closer, that the plane was so small he had to ‘put his arm around me, yes that was it, get very cozy!’ 

 

I was in my glory, no photo shoot has ever had a more enthusiastic participant!  That stewardess had my very best interests at heart and I sent the airline a commendation on her service.  Angels are real.  I should know, I just met two of them.

 

My wonderful first class man and I exchanged details and the promise of a drink if we’re ever on the same island again.  I’m very much hoping I do, and who knows, fate has a funny way of working out.  Maybe I didn’t end up with the man in first class, but I did end up making a connection that melted a block of ice around my heart and soothed away the sorrows of an uninterested old flame. 

 

 

 

The Moral of The Story Is Hope

 

This flight might have seemed like a bust, but I don’t feel that way at all.  This fascinating man gave me a delightful afternoon and a very, very important realization:  There are other first class men out there, all around us, if only we’re willing to drink at martini or two. 

 

Cheers! xoxo Dame Mimi

 

 

What Do You Think?

 

Have you ever met someone in a chance encounter who was exactly what you needed at that moment?  Do you think a stranger can help mend a broken heart?  What do you think of Dame Mimi’s latest adventure?  Leave your thoughts for her in the comments below!

 



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