So anyway, I'm traveling on business, walking through the airport last Thursday. Like I always do, as I walk through the airport, I like to look at the girls. Especially the long hair girls. One who cathes my eye has a high pony tail, yet her hair is still beyond her belt. Nice, I think. I have an hour to kill, so I head off to the lounge for a cocktail. When it's boarding time I line up like everybody else. Finally it is my turn to board and I walk on with my luggage. As I approach my row I see what I think may be my seat, next to: guess who? Miss long hair from earlier.

It turns out to be my lucky day. She is the sweetest thing, keeping quite detailed notes in a dairy. I'm not sure what about exactly, small print and all. Plus I figure it is rude to read someone else's personal notes without an invitation, so I don't particularly try to read it. I close my eyes, thinking I might nap. The thing is, she fidgets a bit, pulling about a quarter of her ponytail between her thumb and index finger, just absently minded twirling while she ponders her next diary entry.

Her twilring makes her luscious pony tail rock back and forth, gently caressing my arm.

I don't want to have to tell you all the fantasies that were running through my mind, but you were thinking the same thing.

I was just so happy to be an extra in that little movie. A gentle gift, much appreciated.