Wednesday, August 13, 2008

It's Time to Fly...

A funny thing happened to me on the airplane yesterday. Barry and I were once again flying out to the west coast for a week of business meetings. I was lucky to be sitting in the aisle bulkhead seat on this very full five hour flight. Barry was only slightly less lucky, sitting one row behind me in a middle seat.

The flight attendant was making her final preparations for take-off, when she nearly dropped a bag from the overhead compartment onto my head. Nearly dropped. But she must have thought she really hit me, for she grabbed my head with both hands, apologizing profusely, and with one hand cradling each ear, she kissed me squarely on the top of the head.

Hullo, baby!

Embarrassed, I glanced back at Barry. He gave me that wink-wink-nudge-nudge smirk that said he had seen it all. Very odd, that kiss.

I thought about this all during the take off. I finally came to the realization that I have now crossed a specific threshold in my life. I must now be sufficiently bald so as to invite head kisses from random strangers. This is not an unusual phenomenon--ciliaphyllism. My dad has been bald for decades, and he's always getting his pate kissed, or polished, or buffed. There's a certain category of women who love to lavish attention on bald and balding men.

So it appears I am now in the chrome-dome club. I better order that travel-sized can of Pledge.

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