The Most Uncomfortable Time Of My Life

January, 2004. I am sitting in coach by the aisle. Some girl took my preferred window seat.

Call of nature.

I get up from my cramped space on the plane and make my way to an even more cramped bathroom. Upon exiting the bathroom I am greeted by a flight attendant.

This employee of the sky seems nice. I am asked about my trip to L.A. As I am about to walk back to my seat however, I realize that this conversation has not ended as I continue to receive a plethora of questions and comments.

The way the flight attendant was looking at me and talking to me seemed to be in a way that went beyond the typical airline duties.

Did I mention that this flight attendant was a man?

As the conversation continues it becomes more and more clear this dude does not play for my team. Not that there's anything wrong with that. There are some fine people playing for the other team, however they know to stay in their dugout.

He continues to ask about my trip and talk about various things that I have for the most part forgotten and much I never really heard to begin with. It was not that I was ignoring him, rather I was preoccupied attempting to mentally communicate with anyone and everyone on the plane even remotely looking in my direction to come save me from this awkwardness.

"Jon, come here, I need to show you this!"
"Well, looks like I need to go. See ya."

Much to my chagrin, no one seemed to have ESP. There was no saving Jon.

As the conversation continues the flight attendant talks to me about his home town in Miami, Florida. He tells me I should go for a visit and even offers to "show me around" the city.

What a nice guy!

The steward decides that he wants to exchange contact info and hands me his card, which I quickly slip into my pocket without even taking a glance at it.

He asked me for my contact information, but I was not about to offer that up. Then I would never be rid of him!

"Oh don't worry, I'll contact YOU", I told him. Thankfully he accepted this although I could see the disappointment in his face.

After several attempts to find an exit, I finally made my move away from this strange conversation and went back to my seat.

After several minutes of explaining my uncomfortable bathroom break to the girl sitting in my window seat, I remembered the card he gave me. I removed it from my pocket, and as I read it to myself.

The front of the card said the steward's name (which I no longer remember) as well as a little picture of a person rubbing down another person in the upper corner. Below it indicated that he was in fact some sort of masseuse.

When I turned the card over my eyes grew when I saw "FIRST MASSAGE FREE" written on the back.

Woah. Is this how he picks up guys?

The rest of the plane ride I avoided eye contact with my admirer and he did not bother me again.

Although awkward as hell at the time, it was pretty funny to think back on, especially since he did not kidnap me or anything.

Nice to know I am loved by both sexes.