So saturday night I’m flying back from the Shot Show and I get on the flight next to a deadheading Captain. He’s ex-mil, no doubt, squared away, and portrays an aura of competence that you don’t often see. Vegas is clear for the first time in a few days, but we manage to fly into some heavy turbulence just a few minutes out of McCarran. Everyone on the plane freaked out except the Captain, the crew, and myself. hell, I like a little turbulence, maybe even a lot of turbulence, provided the airframe is solid and the turbulence is well within design parameters. The woman behind us squealed and the Captain and I just smiled at one another.

The flight attendant(who looks a bit like Brigid) with the fine backside (there always seems to be one, though sometimes it’s a guy) stops by and asks the Captain if he’d like to lose his coat, she takes it and hanges it up. I’m feeling- well, a bit selfconcious, because I’ve worn my last clean shirt, which is accidentally my paint-covered shirt. So I leave my jacket on despite the warmth of the plane. THe attendant asks me if she can take my coat and I say “No, I need to leave it on”.

Fast forward to the middle of the flight, when one of the groups of college kids behind us is being a bit rowdy, and the flight attendant comes and leans down, and says in my ear, ‘Could you give us some help with the guy in 22e?’

I stand, walk down the aisle, and ask the guys if they could please tone it down so the rest of the plane could get in a little nap, and then return to my seat. They stay quiet for the rest of the flight. I look at the Captain and shrug. He leans in: “She thought you were the Air Marshall”.

“I’m not!”

“I know.”

Freaked ME right out, but I kept my mouth shut. The attendant “accidentally” rubbed her fine backside against my shoulder more times than I would have expected. I’ll take what i can get.