As usual on my west to east coast red eye flights, I found myself entwined in a feuding battle of gin rummy with the passenger sitting in the middle seat and seeped in multiple mixed cocktails with no sign of sleep in sight. It was a 4.5 hour flight from Portland to Boston and as I always say “Go big or go home!”. As the sun slowly bled its way from under the fresh new grey window shade of the Airbus A320, I could feel the excitement build. For I had never been to Boston. I have visited NYC many times but never had a real reason to alter course slightly north.
Only 48 hours ago I had been sitting at a bar in Portland awaiting a friend whom was running late. I had decided to order a Rum and Coke. As my brief conversation with the patron to my left ended, I turned back to center position to focus back on my refreshing cocktail. There sitting now to my right, was a beautiful tall woman with long brown hair in a slinky black dress that was in her late 20’s. Her bright red lipstick and fair skin, and how her hair shifted in slow motion as she leaned forward to order her drink. It felt as though I was transported back to the 1950’s. She was mesmerizing and not in a cliché way. She had a classy way about her that I had rarely ever come across in my travels. She then turned to me with a bubbly look and said “Hi, my name is Beverly.” At that moment I thought and actually looked around the bar and then back at her and replied “Am I in the 50’s?”. I was enthralled. Her name and look were not from our time. She laughed and said “no”. She then laughed at my explanation for my comment and we talked for a while until our friends showed up. Slightly nervous as we had just met , I attempted to get her number and before I could complete the request aloud, she handed me a napkin and said” Call me, if you want to visit Boston. I am a great tour guide.” And so I did.