Layovers.

Layovers.

We bid our schedules, trade things around, and try to fly with friends, the whole time keeping an eye on the layover. The very best layovers are those spent with friends or lovers, either those you work with or those who live in your layover city.

People always ask about flight attendants about hooking up with pilots. The majority of times that just doesn’t happen. Think about it. Who becomes pilots? There are certain personalities traits and backgrounds which are reasonably consistent in men who choose to go into aviation. While there certainly are exceptions to every rule, consider this. Most pilots come from a science background, engineering, aerospace, or physics, for example, and they have had a high degree of success in those fields. Now think back to high school and college. Who were the guys that excelled in those classes? Were they people that you were dying to go out with? Invite to your dinner party because they were such witty conversationalists? Probably not. And while some have improved with age, the majority of them are the same, only now they have a six-figure income.

One of the exceptions to this is the captain who we call B.D. The B stands for big, and I mean REALLY big. The D stands for a part of his anatomy below the belt line that makes him very appealing in bed (and makes you forget that he’s really a nerd at heart). I think you get the picture.

B.D. and Fly Girl Buffy hooked up on a layover in New York. It started out innocently enough. He was quiet and shy, she was a party girl. The rest of the crew was slam clicking - going to their rooms and staying in for the night. Fly Girl Buffy was never a slam-clicker, and planned on going out to enjoy the city. B.D. asked if she’d mind some company for the evening.

They went to Tartine in the West Village for dinner, stopping first to pick up a bottle of wine. Over dinner Fly Girl Buffy learned, among other things, that B.D. doesn’t drink. Not an auspicious start, yet there was something oddly appealing about him. They walked the streets of the West Village, wandering by the sex and fetish shops, stopping in at Condomania, and finally wound up at Magnolia Bakery for a dessert cupcake. B.D. was not a strong conversationalist, so there were periods of long silence. Not exactly Fly Girl Buffy’s typical evening, but still fun in a casual, low-key kind of way.

Arriving back at their layover hotel, B.D. walked Fly Girl Buffy back to her room, and before you knew it, the two of them were making out in the hall. The shy, quiet (oh, did I mention married?) B.D. had some serious bulk going on below the belt. Well, according to Fly Girl Buffy, it was actually spilling out over the belt. Buffy was hooked. She had to have B.D. So she did.

That was a couple of years ago. She continues to have B.D. It’s a strange relationship; one that most people can never understand. But then, they don’t know what Fly Girl Buffy knows. And if she has her way, they never will.