“Could you stop that noise?”
“What noise?”
“Your breathing. It’s like sitting next to a broken vacuum cleaner.”
I blinked at her. “Well, I could try holding my breath. I’m just not sure I’d make it to landing.”
She glared. Clearly, a sense of humor wasn’t part of her carry-on allowance.
I tried one more time to be friendly and told her I was flying out to see my grandkids for Halloween.
Her face twisted. “Ugh. I hate Halloween. The disgusting decorations, the creepy dolls, those horrible masks. I can’t even watch a horror movie without having nightmares for a week.”
“My grandson loves all of that.”
“I’ll never understand why people enjoy scaring each other. It’s sick.”
I thought about how my grandson would react to hearing that. He’d have a dozen pranks planned before she finished her sentence.
