Chapter 1: Mile High Club
A wise friend once shared with me an interesting concept- if there is to be a beginning, there will be an ending. Case in point here, the beginning- the day I met Harry Basta. A day that would forever change my life. The ending- the day I finally left him.
Harry, a frequent flier, was seated on the aisle in the bulkhead row; I was the flight attendant in first class. My jump seat faced the airplane's aft, ideally situated diagonally from his aisle seat. And his piercing dreamy blue eyes that resembled the bluest of seas. My uniform was a perfectly tailored-blue dress, just a tad bit shorter than regulation, and I always wore heels to show a touch of my then-shapely dancer legs. Yet, somehow I was still awarded a company recognition pin from my Supervisor for my consistent neat and tidy appearance. As a newly single-gal, it was my "duty" to innocently show a lil' somethin’-somethin', no?
I remember the first meeting of Harry and I. However, he thoroughly preferred the story's re-telling a bit differently than what occurred. Remember Sharon Stone in "that movie" when she uncrossed her legs? Harry thought this was the perfect tale to tell of my sitting on the FA chair, trying to seduce him. NOT. Never happened. Ever. Period. Although humorous, the imagination of a single male and his embellished, glorified "alternative facts" was more like it. There is a reason the expression "Buh-Bye" was coined. As well "Mile High Club". Although I am a member, THANKFULLY, it is not a membership I shared with Harry. I am known for my blatant and sometimes uncomfortable transparency; however, these intimate details are for another story entirely. Or maybe, best left for juicy girl talk with my besties.
I digress. I met Harry a few years after ending an engagement to the same man three times! I guess I'm a slow learner, or possibly a pushover for romance? Then, as a young empty nester, I sold my wedding planning business in San Francisco and decided to travel the world as a flight attendant for an international airline. As well, provided a much-needed opportunity to catch-my-breathe for my newest life chapter. Again. I guess that throws the phrase "Three times a charm" down the drain, on all accounts. For the most part, I will say I chose my first three ex-husbands well. Just not as actual husbands! Harry was my life lesson. Being that I am a believer of the Universe and all its magical woo-woo, I felt it a sign from above that my originally scheduled flight from West Palm, FL to Chicago, IL had been changed due to FAA regulations the night before, with Harry missing his original flight back to Chicago. Kismet or misfortune? Although it has taken me a very long time to stop blaming God and anything else (well, everything) that may be out there in the big abyss, I finally caved into inviting a minuscule amount of gratitude for this moment of meeting him. I needed to learn important life lessons, beginning at 42 years old. I have now come to discover it as a considerable understatement and a blessing in disguise with blue eyes.
I had noticed that Harry had a sharp gazing eye on me, his shark-sugar, during most of the flight. Albeit a cold-blooded eye that I saw just months into our relationship, that was always on the prowl looking for more tasty bait, as were his fingers as he trolled through the numerous porn sites. Regularly. For many, many years during our marriage. To talk with me during the short flight, Harry had managed to situate himself in the first-class galley while he waited to use the first-class restroom. I had thought he was much younger than myself, yet he was charming nonetheless, and I was intrigued. I never dated passengers as I was always a "safety girl".
My fundamental boundary was- no background check or fingerprints, no date. I semi-smirk now because, as you will discover, in actuality, I had ZERO boundaries then! We shared some laughs during the short flight, he commented on my perfume, and I made sure that he knew I had two sons, one of which was already in college, to give him an idea of my more senior years. He had asked me for my phone number at some point, but being the safety girl that I am, I declined. Yet, for some strange reason, I gave him my email. To this day, I still don't know why. Oh, yea, lack of boundaries and blue eyes. That day, I had two more flights and returned home to find a funny old-fashioned email from him. Charming salesman he was, that's for sure. Well anyway, buh-bye to my safety rules! We went on a date the following week. The first lesson was about to begin for his new oblivious and naive student.
