14. Girl, Are You Sure You're Not Made in China?


One of the attendance ladies came around and offered us drinks as when the plane reached its desired altitude. I took some coffee; black coffee, and the attendant smiled at me; perhaps a little too pleasantly for an air hostess to be smiling at the passengers. I grinned back and took my cup.

“Thanks, doll.”

She was a little thing, with dyed blonde hair and fake breasts, which was a little more than evident by their size. Her teeth were a little too white, eyes like the ocean, and her skin a little too tan for this time of year. It looked like she used about half a bottle of foundation on her face that morning, too.  

I took a sip of the coffee and set it into the cup holder, then turned to Louisa. I could feel her icy gaze, watching me the whole time I had interacted with her Barbie hostess. Right then she was looking at the hostess with petty disgust.  

“What about you, lil’ Lou? Want anything?” I asked her cheerfully, and she seemed to snap out of her trance and noded, asking for a ginger ale, which the hostess hands to her unemotionally.

“Need some sugar for that, sir?” the hostess turned her attention back to me, and before I could reply, handed me a tiny pack of sugar. With one last flirtatious smile, the hostess pushed her trolley unto the nest row of seats.

I shook my head and looked down at the pack of sugar, which had a phone number scrawled onto the back. “She tries too hard.” I said and tossed the packet into the empty cup holder beside me with little interest for the phone number. “Not to mention she was fake, or that I wasn’t even interested.”

Louisa just looks at me with a bleak expression for a moment, than looks out her window. “Oh man,” I think to myself and hide a smile by taking a sip of coffee. “Someone’s jealous.” And it’s not the first time it had happened to me, either.

“So,” I continue willingly, as if the waitress had never even existed at all. “What was that book you were reading?” she turned back to me, to my pleasure, and her eyes lit up like Christmas lights.

She pulled the hard cover out and held it so I could see the gold writing on the spine. “A Tale of Two Cities. We were assigned to read it in English class at school, but I love this book. I’ve already read it many times.”

I raised my eyebrows at that. “Really? Wow,” I smirk and laugh a little. “I’m not much of a book reader myself, “I wiggle my fingers at her, which were still stained with grease a little, and had black crescents under the nails. “I get the pages a little dirty.”

She grined and sets the book down on her lap. “I guess you're just a dirty little boy then, aren’t you?” she said flirtatiously, then seemed surprised that those words came out of her mouth. But I only grin suggestively at her and wink.

“When the opportune moment comes, I can be,”     

The End

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