The Stranger Next to Me

Yesterday I flew back home after going on vacation and I have a confession to make....

Whenever I'm waiting for the flight, I always scope out my fellow passengers.

And try to find the hottest guy.

Secretely I wish they would sit next to me in 28D. And suprise, suprise, they never do. They sit next to Miss America over in 11F.

I guess I should have realized that this pattern will always repeat itself. And yesterday was no different. I scoped out the hottie going to Denver. He sat next to Miss America, and I got to sit next to some random 55 year old from Ft. Collins.

Now, I'm not knocking on the older males from Ft Collins. It's just that we have absolutely nothing in common (other than the fact that we both thought it would be smarter to fly than drive to San Antonio.... but really that's a no-brainer)

So I'm sitting next to Mr. No-personality and I feel obligated to start a conversation with him. I did make the attempt, and you can generally determine within 5 minutes of meeting someone whether you will have stuff to talk about. And we didn't.

So with another hour and 35 minutes, I watched some random TV.

My point is to this random babbling is, why do we talk to the stranger beside us? I knew that the probability of me running into this guy again was about .000056%, and yet still I felt a need to have a somewhat ackward coversation with him.

I guess that's just the way the crow flys.