His glasses slipped sideways. His bag nearly fell.
Harold caught the bag while I reached for the man’s glasses.
“Thank you,” the man muttered.
Brittany barely glanced at him.
“Sorry! It’s a lot of hair.”
Harold settled back into his seat.
“I believe I have just been assaulted by a shampoo advertisement.”
I laughed.
“Should we report it?”
“I would, but the paperwork would be enormous.”
Then Brittany looked toward our row.
Her expression changed.
“Oh, my God. Not you again.”
I gave her my sweetest smile.
“Small world.”
“Are you following me?”
“No, dear. Your perfume arrived before you did.”
Harold turned toward the window, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter.
Brittany marched to her seat directly in front of mine.
Of course she did.
Once the aircraft had taken off and the seat-belt sign was switched off, she stood in the aisle again.
“Okay, guys. You wanted to see the back view. Here it is.”
