Walter

And he was probably at least moderately intelligent at one point in his life. After all, he had managed to purchase a flight from Boston to London. So he either had already made his money, or some company thought he was worthy enough to be sent overseas. But he must have peaked early in life, because what I witnessed was about the biggest knuckle-headed move I had ever seen.

The passenger jet had two seats on either side, and about five seats across the middle. I was lucky to get a window seat. With no one yet seated near me, I was hoping the flight would be only partially full and my little two-seat row would become my personal living space. Soon, I watched a woman coming down the aisle, stopping near my seat and putting her carry-on bags in the overhead compartment above me. She was very pretty, and I was hoping she would sit down next to me. Now, I had no illusions about her (or anyone else) wanting to run off with me, frolicking in the rolling green hills of England. But if I was going to spend six hours on a plane, that is exactly the kind of passenger I wanted next to me (call me shallow). She, however, did not sit next to me. She pulled into the next row, into the seat directly behind me. Ok, well at least the seat next to me was still empty, and hopefully would remain so.

Then, down the aisle, came Walter. He took the aisle seat beside me. He was about my age (mid forties at the time), with average looks. A banker, maybe. He seemed aware of his surroundings at least. But after a brief greeting and introduction, I realized what a long flight this was going to be. Damn.