Seatmate Soulmate.

I think everyone wonders about their seatmate on a flight. Nobody wants their space infringed by a stranger's stuff, smell or size. But, as a single person, every flight, I like to hope that my seatmate might be my soulmate. And, I know this game isn't restricted to women. My friend K, who travels WAY more than I do, and I always joke about his seatmate soulmate before his flights.

About six years ago, I was returning from San Francisco with a co-worker. As we were boarding, we both noted a tall drink of chocolate milk getting in line behind us. Long story short, the long straw turned out to be my seatmate and my date for a little while. We are still friendly so I guess that has left me an optimist in the seatmate soulmate game. An optimist despite the fact that my last seatmate was a forty-something lady who was wearing bedazzled jeans, a leopard print shirt, and an especially tacky acrylic French manicure.

Of course, I'm probably 0 for 123 at this point. K is probably 0 for 327, although he said one of his more recent seatmates was close. He was due -- his seatmate the previous time was a big dude who offered him drugs and made him shake him awake on landing since he drugged himself into oblivion. Maybe all this seatmate karma will eventually payoff in soulmates for both of us. Either way, it makes boarding less boring.