priests, vodka and gingerale

dear guy sitting next to me on the plane-

i didn't have the courage, or the breath, to say this to you before. the thing is, i'm flattered that you thought i was cute. i really am. but when the stewardess/flight attendant/lady who brings the gingerale came by to take our drink requests and you got six of those little bottles of vodka and offered me one, i just wasn't impressed. not because i don't enjoy vodka now and again. more because it was six thirty in the morning. and when you pulled out your bottle of valuum and chased two of them with a mini-vodka, and then asked if i wanted a few...well...again, not impressed. and thank you, really, for asking to take me to breakfast in the airport once we landed. it's just that i imagine you didn't mean "breakfast" at all. has this line of flirting been successful in the past? and did i really strike you as that kind of girl with my C.S Lewis book and eddie bower baseball cap? i didn't realize that's the message i was sending. so, i'm sure you're very nice and all, and will make some pharmacist a lovely companion one day. but please, please don't sit by me on the plane ever again. like, never again.


dear priest in the airport during my layover-

it's not your fault altogether, i'll say that upfront. i was still reeling of vodka-and-valuum guy when i saw you. and i know that, although you're a man of the cloth, you're allowed to have the same technological advances the rest of us do. but when your cell phone rang with the song "devil went down to georgia" and you said "hello sister mary," well, i just couldn't quite process all of that. so, if you could maybe just change the song to something like "joyful joyful we adore thee" or some other song from one of the sister act's, i'd be grateful. i mean, it's weird enough that you've got a razr phone....


dear lady sitting next to me on the second flight of the day

i was actually fully aware that you were reading my book right along with me. i understand the quick glance just to satisfy the curiosity of what a girl like me might be interested in...but you all out read the book for twenty or thirty minutes straight....like you didn't even care how creepy that was. which is why i was so surprised when you snapped at me. i can see how you may have thought i was looking at the papers you were holding...but i was really just trying to get the lady to bring me more gingerale. i'm sorry you thought i was snooping. oh, and one more thing, if you could maybe not breathe quite so heavily when you're reading over my shoulder, that would be nice. or at least have a tictac.

dear flight attendant/stewardess/whatever is the PC name right now

first i'd like to thank you for the ginerale. but i do have a question...why can't i just have the WHOLE can of gingerale? why must you open the can, pour a fourth of it into a cup with too much ice, and expect that to quench the thirst created by your overly salted peanuts? i mean, gingerale is not that pricey of a drink...and i didn't hear ANYONE else in my area order one, so i can't imagine there was a shortage...and i did use all the correct manners and a lovely smile. and what it comes right down to is, had you brought me the whole can, the heavy breathing lady would never have yelled at me. i just feel like you could've thought ahead a little on that one.





two dollars to the first one who names the origin of the image above.