This post is a repost from my traveling days. I couldn’t help but repost it, as I had something similar happen on a plane journey to Australia. Enjoy!
Recently ,I purchased a “Body Bugg”. (www.bodybugg.com) to give me some motivation to lose a bit of weight. The Body Bugg is a calculator of sorts. It monitors the amount of calories you burn in a day via a black armband you wear on your upper arm. At night, you log on to your IPad and enter everything that goes into your mouth, including breath mints, gum, etc. The Bugg then gets plugged into your computer and syncs to calculate how many calories you ate and how many you burned!
When it quits screaming, you’ve done okay. That is where the story begins.
I got on a plane to Chicago from St Louis. I’d been working all day and was feeling full of energy. For those that know me, that’s not always good. I get to my row on the plane and there is a distinguished looking man, a bit older than I am, if that is possible, sitting in the tiny seat next to me. He stands and steps aside to let me into my seat. I take off my jacket, which reveals my Body Bugg. I see him looking at it, but he says nothing. Curiosity finally wins him over and he says, “What’s that thing on your arm?”
I say, “A jail monitor.”
“What did you do?”
“Murder.” I say matter-of-factly.
He gets quiet and turns away. A few minutes later he looks at me and says,
“You look like a nice enough person. It must of been a long time ago.”
I read the hope in his eyes, but I can’t resist.
“Yeah, it was. ‘Bout two weeks now.”
His eyes widen. “Why are you on this plane then?”
“Going to meet my parole officer in Chicago. She thinks I’m a flight risk.”
He cranks his head sideways and gives me a good long look.
“But you’re on a plane, doesn’t that mean you are a flight risk?”
“Naw,” I say. “The police put me on this plane. Actually, I was more of a driving risk. Got out of Colorado ten days ago in a golf cart. Made it clean to the Oklahoma border before someone stopped me.”
“Why did they stop you?”
“I still had someone’s clubs on the back end and there wasn’t a golf course for two hundred miles.”
By now, I’m barely able to contain myself, but the business man is so intrigued I just have to play it out.
“Yeah, even stopping for gas didn’t raise anyone’s suspicion,” I said. “I told them I lived just down the road and had forgotten my purse. Everyone helped me out.”
“How did it end?”
“How do these always end, Mr.?” I said straight faced. “Speed trap.”
He stares at me for the longest time wondering if he heard right, then bursts right out laughing.
We both chuckled for the rest of the trip. That moment gave me a great scene for an upcoming book!
And THAT’s how scenes can be made!