thought for a moment, brow furrowed in concentration. “Let me ask the captain,” he said finally. Then before turning away he added, “I’m sorry for the special-meal confusion.”
“It’s perfectly fine, I was just a little, you know, surprised. Because, I mean, I’m Christian.” Then, smiling, “Of course I don’t suppose a computer would have any way of knowing that.”
He smiled back at her. “No, I suppose not. We’re just not that sophisticated yet.”
To get the whole incident out of her mind, Peggy Jean took a Valium from the One-A-Day vitamin bottle she stored them in. The Valium pills, she had found, came in quite handy.
Hours later, after dinner and the in-flight movie, Peggy Jean decided to freshen up in the lavatory. She unfastened her seatbelt and stood in the aisle, enjoying the brief stretch. She opened the overhead compartment and retrieved her hard-shell American Tourister cosmetics case, then made her way down the narrow aisle to the lavatory door. But before she reached the lavatory, she noticed the flight attendant’s beverage cart parked in the little kitchenette nook behind the bulkhead. All three of the Connoisseur Class flight attendants were napping, as were most of the passengers.
Gently, she slid the metal drawer out and saw all the pretty little bottles; Grand Marnier, Drambuie, Crème de Menthe, and thought, Why not? Why not take a few of the little bottles home, as gifts? After all, it wasn’t like she was stealing. Lord, no. Beverages were complimentary in Connoisseur Class. Her ticket had cost Sellevision well over five thousand dollars and certainly for that amount of money, well . . .
Carefully, she lifted out a little bottle of Grand Marnier. As a young girl, she’d loved oranges.
Of course, the problem was she was still holding the cosmetics case in her other hand. So she glanced around, just to make sure she wasn’t creating a distraction. Then she set the case on the floor and snapped it open. She took the little bottle and plopped it inside, right next to her Aqua-Net. Then she reached for another little bottle. She started to close the case, but it occurred to her that if she gave only two friends the adorable little bottles, her other friends might feel hurt.
So, very quietly she slid the shelf of the beverage cart all the way out, just ever so gently. And she slipped an additional five little bottles into the case. I could tie a pretty bow around these and attach them to the outside of wrapped presents , she thought.
One by one, she slipped more of the little bottles into her case, eventually leaving only the heavy amber scotches and bourbons (for the men). There was no longer enough room for the Aqua-Net, so she left this in the cart also. When opportunity knocks , she thought to herself.
M
ax realized it was futile to try and fight his depression, so he decided instead to feed it. Turning on Sellevision at two in the afternoon, he was surprised to see a closeup shot of Bebe Friedman. Normally, Bebe only hosted the most glamorous shows, during the most premium hours. But as soon as the camera pulled out to a wide shot, he saw that Bebe was sitting alongside Joyce DeWitt, from Three’s Company . Of course, that’s why Bebe was on in the middle of the afternoon—it was a celebrity program. Max un-muted the television and listened to the show.
“. . . and I realized there was no skin regime for women my age; everything was geared toward twenty- and thirty-year-olds,” Joyce was saying.
“You know, that is so true. Mature women like ourselves, we end up wandering the aisles of the department stores and thinking, maybe I’m supposed to use dishwashing soap on my face or something.”
Joyce laughed and interjected, “That’s exactly it, Bebe. And that’s exactly why I created Joyce’s Choice, because I was fed-up with skin care products that ignore the needs of my over-thirty skin.”
“Joyce, let’s take a phone call. Let’s say hello to
“It’s perfectly fine, I was just a little, you know, surprised. Because, I mean, I’m Christian.” Then, smiling, “Of course I don’t suppose a computer would have any way of knowing that.”
He smiled back at her. “No, I suppose not. We’re just not that sophisticated yet.”
To get the whole incident out of her mind, Peggy Jean took a Valium from the One-A-Day vitamin bottle she stored them in. The Valium pills, she had found, came in quite handy.
Hours later, after dinner and the in-flight movie, Peggy Jean decided to freshen up in the lavatory. She unfastened her seatbelt and stood in the aisle, enjoying the brief stretch. She opened the overhead compartment and retrieved her hard-shell American Tourister cosmetics case, then made her way down the narrow aisle to the lavatory door. But before she reached the lavatory, she noticed the flight attendant’s beverage cart parked in the little kitchenette nook behind the bulkhead. All three of the Connoisseur Class flight attendants were napping, as were most of the passengers.
Gently, she slid the metal drawer out and saw all the pretty little bottles; Grand Marnier, Drambuie, Crème de Menthe, and thought, Why not? Why not take a few of the little bottles home, as gifts? After all, it wasn’t like she was stealing. Lord, no. Beverages were complimentary in Connoisseur Class. Her ticket had cost Sellevision well over five thousand dollars and certainly for that amount of money, well . . .
Carefully, she lifted out a little bottle of Grand Marnier. As a young girl, she’d loved oranges.
Of course, the problem was she was still holding the cosmetics case in her other hand. So she glanced around, just to make sure she wasn’t creating a distraction. Then she set the case on the floor and snapped it open. She took the little bottle and plopped it inside, right next to her Aqua-Net. Then she reached for another little bottle. She started to close the case, but it occurred to her that if she gave only two friends the adorable little bottles, her other friends might feel hurt.
So, very quietly she slid the shelf of the beverage cart all the way out, just ever so gently. And she slipped an additional five little bottles into the case. I could tie a pretty bow around these and attach them to the outside of wrapped presents , she thought.
One by one, she slipped more of the little bottles into her case, eventually leaving only the heavy amber scotches and bourbons (for the men). There was no longer enough room for the Aqua-Net, so she left this in the cart also. When opportunity knocks , she thought to herself.
M
ax realized it was futile to try and fight his depression, so he decided instead to feed it. Turning on Sellevision at two in the afternoon, he was surprised to see a closeup shot of Bebe Friedman. Normally, Bebe only hosted the most glamorous shows, during the most premium hours. But as soon as the camera pulled out to a wide shot, he saw that Bebe was sitting alongside Joyce DeWitt, from Three’s Company . Of course, that’s why Bebe was on in the middle of the afternoon—it was a celebrity program. Max un-muted the television and listened to the show.
“. . . and I realized there was no skin regime for women my age; everything was geared toward twenty- and thirty-year-olds,” Joyce was saying.
“You know, that is so true. Mature women like ourselves, we end up wandering the aisles of the department stores and thinking, maybe I’m supposed to use dishwashing soap on my face or something.”
Joyce laughed and interjected, “That’s exactly it, Bebe. And that’s exactly why I created Joyce’s Choice, because I was fed-up with skin care products that ignore the needs of my over-thirty skin.”
“Joyce, let’s take a phone call. Let’s say hello to
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