We met on JetBlue 1516...

It was kismet.  First, my sister and I walked past your grandmother's apartment in Japantown in San Francisco hundreds of times.  Usually to take the bus to Four Barrel, Sightglass or to some shop in Union Square.  And yet we did not meet.

Next, you and I lived in Paris one metro stop away.  You were there "working" as a summer associate at Cleary Gottlieb and I was there "studying" wine at Cordon Bleu.  And yet we did not meet.

A few years later, my mother visited San Francisco and my sister for a trip to the City of Ten Thousand Buddhas north of the bay and I flew out on a whim to join her for a family weekend.  You were there for your cousin Max's wedding in Napa and yet we did not meet in wine country.

But, after that visit with my family, I went to the airport for a redeye back to NYC and, on checking in, I confirmed that I would have a window seat next to an empty middle seat, just as I liked it.  But when I boarded, you were already there, awkwardly putting your bag into my overhead compartment.  I thought you were certainly flying economy and just inappropriately storing your bag in the front.

"Excuse me," I said (rudely).  

"Oh, is this your seat?"  

I nodded silently, rolling my eyes in my head and then I sat down and started the process of going to sleep.  And then, instead of going to the back of the plane, you sat down next to me.  Then I turned to you, with a look of a surprise, and gave you "what-do-you-think-you-are-doing" look.  You didn't even see it, but it was there.

"By the way, I'm Daniel."  

Thinking to myself, who starts a sentence with "by the way," I sighed quietly and tried to go to sleep.

Then I woke up to go to the restroom.  After returning to my seat, you said, "Well, since we both can't sleep, how about we talk instead?"  And, my gosh, you're a talker. 

You told me about your family and showed me a picture of you with your grandmother and sister at Max's wedding.  You showed me your driver's license (with a photo of you at sixteen!), which I thought was a pretty bold move.  You told me about what you do and I could tell you loved your job.  And then you kept talking...

Six sleepless hours later, we FINALLY got off the plane and, as we were walking out on the escalator, you told me you enjoyed talking to me.  "I know," I said (why else would you keep talking for six hours).

"Do you want to share cab ride back to the city?" you asked.

"No, I need to go to the restroom to put my make up on since i am going directly into the office" (unlike you).

"In that case," you said as you put down your luggage and stood up straight, "may I please have your phone number."

Wow, I thought to myself, impressed by your formality.  And then I gave you my number and spent the rest of the day telling my friends to fly JetBlue.

We met on JetBlue 1516

I was late. I was rushing to the airport from my grandma’s apartment in Japantown with an extra stop at a gas station and rental car drop on the way.  I didn’t have a seat assignment and when I got my boarding pass it gave me the dreaded “speak with gate agent for seat assignment” – universal code for seat near the back bathroom with mandatory nearby baby.  But JetBlue flight #1516 had other things in mind for me.

The gate agent told me that he was sorry, but that there were no economy seats left for me on this flight.  My mind raced.  Bumped, I thought.  I’d take the next flight, but there was no next flight, this was the redeye.  I was bound for a night in the airport.  But JetBlue 1516 had other ideas and the agent continued, we do have an upgraded seat available, though, and we can give it to you for no extra charge.

I counted my stars, gave my thanks and boarded the plane.  As I put my garment bag in the overhead compartment, you first spoke a sweet “excuse me” as you took the window seat next to mine.  I sat down and waited for the plane to finish boarding, expecting a quiet flight home.  But JetBlue 1516 knew better.

You gave me a smile, so I said, “By the way, I’m Daniel.”  

Four hours later, I was still Daniel, but I simultaneously thought I knew you and was certain that I needed to know more.  I knew that you were working in your dream job.  I knew that you loved hot pot (whatever that was!).  That you loved foie gras and stinky tofu and apple tarts (French-style) and picnics and Badoit.  That you were in San Francisco only for a weekend visiting family.  I knew that you were passionate about your studies and had worked hard to get where you were.  I knew that you were away from home and missed your family but were chasing your dreams.  I admired you already and knew that I needed to see you again.  But, I had two hours left on the plane and so a dilemma.  

My mind raced.  I wanted to ask for your number, but I couldn’t.  What if you said no?  We’d be trapped on the plane for two more hours.  Literally tied into our seats next to each other, unable to escape.  No, JetBlue 1516 knew better. 

So I kept talking and waited, learning more about you.  About growing up in Taipei.  About Hong Kong, about Paris, about wine tasting.  And again, the more I knew the more I wanted to know.

We landed and we got off the plane.  We were walking together side by side and I didn’t want to stop.  I told you that I had enjoyed talking with you.  With a smile, a wink and two words you said “I know.” 

I nearly died.  I know?  I KNOW?  No, “me too?” No, “yeah, it was fun?”  But nearly dead is not dead, so I asked you for your number and, to my ever-present delight, you gave it to me.