The Brokenhearted [Ongoing]

Chapter 08

Her perfume was intoxicating. I was hypnotised by her glossy pink lips as she spoke. Her attention was focused on the screen while her long, slim feminine fingers typed away on the black keys. Without looking at me, she regurgitated the usual spiel for the thousandth time.

"Sir? Excuse me sir!"

Blinking rapidly, I took a small step back.

"Yes? Sorry, I was somewhere else," I stammered

"Did you pack these bags yourself? Have they been under your supervision at all times..." She muttered on.

I nodded and repeatedly said 'yes'. Whenever I was asked the routine questions at the airport, I wondered, who would admit that they hadn't pack their bags themselves or were actually carrying a weapon of some sort? Certainly not anyone planning to carry out an attack during the flight.

"Have you got any hand luggage, sir? Please place it on the belt to be weighed."

I had never understood why, but when woman wore power clothing, it served as an aphrodisiac for me. A well groomed woman, in a power suit, and black stilettos; her long, voluminous, wavy hair swaying as she walks by, her perfume leaving a trail behind. Few things grabbed my attention more.

Unfortunately Cindy wasn't captivated by me as I was with her. One always hears stories about men scoring with air hostesses and joining the mile high club, but they're never about someone we directly know.  Even if someone we know claimed to such fortunate circumstances, we would more readily believe them to be a liar.

Roxanne had once predicted that female staff would always attend to me. She stated my boyish charm had the power of putting them under a spell. So, I had hoped to be checked in by Cindy since she was one of the few women at the counters. I noticed from afar that she didn't wear a wedding band, and thus, became the primary target.

Leaning over the counter I attempted to make conversation by asking her about the flight, the possibility of an upgrade, if she had ever been to Manila Philippines, but I got nothing, just direct responses. She had probably heard the routine so many times that now it was nothing more than white noise.

I convinced myself that being snubbed was a result of poor material rather her sensing my state of 'recovery'. It is said that women can smell desperation on a man like cheap cologne, and talking about your ex is a dead giveaway.

I'd have to let Roxanne know about my unsuccessful experience, which in turn would discount her theory, though, Roxanne would probably accuse Cindy of being lesbian. Perhaps I had lost my mojo. Then again, I never thought I had it.

"Everything is in order sir and I have given you a window seat next to the emergency exit for extra leg room. Is there anything else I can do for you?" She asked with a smile.

I always enjoyed travelling and visiting friends in other places, I just hated the actual travel part of it. Even six hours was an ordeal for me. The unusual odour only found on aircrafts, the turbulent take off and landing and not to mention the atrocious garbage the airlines try to pass off as food. If only they drugged heir passengers.

Fastening my seat belt, I pulled my phone in my pocket. If I was lucky, the next six hours would fly by and I would be able to sleep peacefully. Popping on my headphones, I pressed play to my favorite music 'Home by Michael Buble' and rested my head on the pillow against the window.

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TO BE CONTINUED...

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Thank you for reading my story hope you enjoy..
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