Blue Dolphin
Back home again
- Joined
- Nov 11, 2001
- Posts
- 20,658
Connecting Flight (closed)
This thread is closed for Ladychance & myself.
OOC
Bill Davis, 30 year old IT consultant, single.
6 foot tall, brown hair and eyes.
Athletic build works out regularly.
IC
I was not that overjoyed at having to go to the IT convention in Denver, but at least such events usually had good socialising in the bars at night, or so I had heard. I was at the airport in plenty of time, and the cute check in girl was very nice to me.
"Boarding will be at 9.20 Mr Davis, gate 8, have a good trip now Sir."
And sure enough, we started boarding exactly on time, which was good. I was halfway down the plane it seemed row 21, seat B. I did not strap myself in, knowing that there would someone along shortly for seat A, the window seat.
Not that I wanted that seat, I usually read or slept when flying, one cloud looks much like another to me.
I watched the other passengers coming down the aisle for a while, wondering who my companion might be, hopefully not an idiot, who talked rubbish the whole flight. I had been there before, and knew how interminably long even a short hop could be made to seem.
Picking up the inflight magazine, I scanned the entertainment section, only to be disturbed by a delightfully soft, and almost familiar female voice
Excuse me Sir, is that seat 21A?"
This thread is closed for Ladychance & myself.
OOC
Bill Davis, 30 year old IT consultant, single.
6 foot tall, brown hair and eyes.
Athletic build works out regularly.
IC
I was not that overjoyed at having to go to the IT convention in Denver, but at least such events usually had good socialising in the bars at night, or so I had heard. I was at the airport in plenty of time, and the cute check in girl was very nice to me.
"Boarding will be at 9.20 Mr Davis, gate 8, have a good trip now Sir."
And sure enough, we started boarding exactly on time, which was good. I was halfway down the plane it seemed row 21, seat B. I did not strap myself in, knowing that there would someone along shortly for seat A, the window seat.
Not that I wanted that seat, I usually read or slept when flying, one cloud looks much like another to me.
I watched the other passengers coming down the aisle for a while, wondering who my companion might be, hopefully not an idiot, who talked rubbish the whole flight. I had been there before, and knew how interminably long even a short hop could be made to seem.
Picking up the inflight magazine, I scanned the entertainment section, only to be disturbed by a delightfully soft, and almost familiar female voice
Excuse me Sir, is that seat 21A?"
Last edited: