Saturday, July 18, 2009

Travel Log: Irena

Her name was Irena. She swayed slowly down the aisle to my row on the airplane. Now, understand, swaying gently down an airplane aisle is about as easy to do as pirouette in a church pew. Her hair was a natural golden blonde, and offsetting the anticipated blue eyes instead she had deep brown eyes that shone when she smiled. blah blah blah, cute flowery bs. She was hot. They ended up sitting across from me. Her mother was German, her father French. They had caught the flight over from Frankfurt, then down to Orlando for holiday. My french is somewhat lacking but I'm fairly certain her father was a banker and met the mother in germany while studying there...or maybe on business...dunno. Anyway, in short, she was gorgeous. Didn't talk much, but she had a beautiful voice, very little accent. We landed in Orlando, walked together to the baggage claim, then she left, I wished her a happy holiday.
It's late, maybe more on other subjects later. Bear in mind I make no guarantee of absolute truth in these writings, only that at the very core there is a kernel of truth.

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