Come fly with me, let's fly, let's fly away

I'm still awkward! I know you've all been wondering if I somehow got less awkward and that's why I've not had any to share for so long, but oh no, I've not lost that quality at all. In this particular case, though, it was technically an awkward airport encounter.

I'm sitting around, minding my own business when an elderly gentleman approaches me and asks me to watch his bag while he goes to the restroom. Now, yes, the slightly robotic voice did come on at exactly that moment and remind us not to leave luggage unattended and never to accept luggage from strangers, but was I seriously going to say no? So as he wandered off I contemplated how bad I'd feel if I exploded in the next few minutes.

When he returned he sat down next to me. I knew then that things were going to get awkward. He asked me about my book and said how delightful it was to see a young lady reading (side note: I seem to be super adorable to old men; I'm not sure why, though I think maybe they think I'm sweeter than I am?). We chatted about Magus for a bit, and then he asked for help with charging his phone.

That's when things took a turn. You see, his phone is apparently bugged. By men in suits. Who also follow him everywhere. They are not the FBI, he is quite sure, because they have been too obvious and amateur. I started to worry about the whole bag watching thing, but it was in the past.

I'm pretty sure that he has some sort of dementia, because he kept forgetting whether California was home or DC for me and asked me to tell him my story several times (why oh why can't I have an easier job to explain that doesn't lead to people wanting to talk about organized crime in Russia?). Though, after the flight when he saw me he remembered my name. Which yes, that did sort of feel a bit creepy.

Go me!

This all reminds me of the one time I made friends with a stranger on a plane and it went well. He also used my book (something on theater of the oppressed) as an opening to chat and we actually seriously hit it off. He gave me his phone number, which is less creepy than asking for mine, right? I never called him, though. I kick myself in retrospect, since that was probably my best chance to make out with a stranger on an airplane. I'm pretty sure in hindsight that he'd have gone for it, and it would a) make for a better story, and b) be a good bucket-list activity, right?

EDIT: I was 21 at the time; I don't know why, but I feel like that is important context.