Fate had placed the two of them next to each on the plane, and what should've been a 4 hour slug back to Chicago flew by in an instant. No electronic devices needed, just the occasional sip of Merlot, and good old fashioned conversation.
She was enthralled by him. It was something she'd not experienced before in any setting, let alone a commercial flight.
The plane stopped at the gate, the engines wound down, and the seatbelt signs came off.
The passengers jumped up immediately, as was customary. The clock was ticking. The man she had connected with so immediately was about walk off the plane, never to be seen again. It wasn't in her nature, but she felt like she had to make the move.
"Well, it was wonderful chatting with you," she said, casually, before unleashing the oldest trick in the book, "I'm sorry...what did you say your name was?"
He grinned.
"I didn't," he replied, "it's Wayne. Wayne Shitberg."
"I'm sorry?" She asked again, clearly having misheard.
"Wayne Shitberg," he reaffirmed.
"Ok, yeah I thought that's what you said," she replied, rapidly pondering if she'd be able to spend the rest of her life as a Mrs. Shitberg. Finally, deciding it probably wasn't a dealbreaker.
"Could I erm, could I give you my number?" She said. "You know, in case you wanna, stay in touch or...?"
He smiled at her.
"I'm not sure if my wife would appreciate that," he said.
Her heart sank and she could feel her face turning red. He'd not once used the word 'wife' on the entire flight, but, she figured he was probably too much of a catch to be single, so it wasn't entirely unexpected.
"Oh, there's a, erm, already a Mrs. Shitberg?" She asked, while trying to conjure up something to say through the waves of embarrassment.
"Yeah," he replied. "Well, sort of..."
A glimmer of hope perhaps, she thought! Perhaps all was not well in the Shitberg household?
"Sort of?" She pressed. "How so?"
"Yeah, I mean, she has a double barreled name these days, it's Gina Shitberg-Flusher."
"Your wife's name is Gina Shitberg-Flusher?" She asked, in amused disbelief.
"That's right? Have you heard of her?" He asked back, earnestly.
"Erm, no, should I have?"
"Maybe." He said, now kindly passing her her carry on from the overhead bin. "She's an actress."
"Your wife is an actress called Gina Shitberg-Flusher?"
"Yes, that's right."
"Wait!" Another passenger piped up from across the aisle. "You're married to Gina Shitberg-Flusher!? No way, so cool. I loved her in the Sticky Bowl!"
"Thank you, I'll let her know!" He replied.
The folks in the front rows had shuffled forward at this point, and they followed suit.
"Have a great day," he said.
#microfiction
