The one where she talks to strangers

Six years ago, in what seems like another lifetime now, I crossed "See the Pyramids" off my bucket list.  Toronto to Cairo isn't a popular enough route to warrant a direct flight, so it required a stopover in Amsterdam both ways. On the way back I booked a few days in Amsterdam, because why not? I met The Stranger on that flight. What a story to tell the grandchildren! "We met on the way from Cairo to Amsterdam." Can you imagine? He was exotic and gorgeous, like one would expect the man you meet on a globetrotting adventure to be.

My flight was delayed. I was still a smoker back then and the only seat left in the airport lounge was the one in a booth across from him. After I sat down we made the idle chit-chat you make when circumstances force you to sit a few feet away from a person you don't know. We learned we were on the same flight. We talked about Amsterdam and things to do while there. When we discovered the plane was half empty, we sat together. It's a long flight, might as well have company to pass the time.

When we landed, he invited me to dinner. I said yes. After all, a stranger is just a friend you haven't met. He was there for work so his days were full, but we spent the evenings together. His mother was Egyptian, he was visiting her family but he was raised in Munich and still lived there. He was ridiculously interesting. When my three days in Amsterdam were up, he invited me to come to Germany for the weekend. Tempting! But I said I couldn't. We didn't exchange contact information. Why bother pretending you're going to keep in touch from half a world away?

I spent a lot of time wondering why I didn't go. It wouldn't have caused undue financial hardship to change my flight or spend a few more days away from home. Yes, he was exotic and gorgeous, but he was also smart and a lot of fun. I still had plenty of vacation time left, an occupational hazard of workaholism. Means. Motive. Opportunity. Was I nuts? A beautiful stranger invited me to a strange land and I said no? What the hell was wrong with me?

I flew home and carried on with my life. I thought about The Stranger once in a while, but only in passing. A few months later I met another stranger, this time one a little closer to home. I think I didn't go because I knew on some level the gorgeous, exotic man half a world away was not THE Stranger I was destined for. Our story isn't quite "We met on the way from Cairo to Amsterdam," but it has a happy ending. I hope the grandchildren will understand.


This post is written as part of GBE2 - Week #50 word prompt: The Stranger. For more info about GBE,  click here.