The Fish
Anyway, after we deboarded the airport was bedlam. I think a lot people thought they would never make it to Vegas. I think I would have been annoyed,too, except I spotted Laurence Fishburne in the terminal. Turns out he was also on my flight.
I don't know why but I could not stop scoping him out. Okay, I do know why. I feel, and this is the truth, that is my destiny to be loved by a black man. And wouldn't The Fish be a great catch? (Pun not intended! But still awesome.) So I kept giving The Fish glances because I knew if he noticed me he'd fall in love with me. How could he not? Duh. The man has eyes and he is not made of stone. And black guys think I'm the poo.
The Fish was talking to his assistant and a Southwest Airlines worker. They were standing in a small circle. I kept edging closer to them. Casually at first and then with reckless abandon. Eventually not only was I standing right next to The Fish, I was IN the circle. Part of the conversation.
The Fish asked when our plane would leave and the Southwest Airlines worker said she didn't know for sure, but not for at least two hours. Then The Fish's assistant took out his phone and told The Fish that he thought they should just hire a driver to take them to Vegas. And then this happened.
Me: Yeah.
That's it. I just said that. Out loud. To The Fish. Honestly, in more ways than one I don't know what the hell is wrong with me. The Fish, his assistant and the stupid Southwest Airlines worker just stared at me. Then they scooted away from me.
The Fish left shortly after that but not before turning around and smiling at me. I smiled back but here's the thing: I am 100% that if I had gone over and asked for a ride to Vegas The Fish would have said yes. And you-know-what would have gone down in the you-know-where. I'm just bad at sealing the deal, is all.