The High Cheese and His Travelling Circus

Howdy Quesolitos, the most incredible woman in the world and yours truly, everyone's favorite fastball high and tight, have returned from their world travels (actually we went to Houston to see my extended family). We lived to tell about it, so it must have been a successful and enjoyable trip. But let me tell you about two things I have learned about myself while on this trip:

1. I am not afraid of flying, except at takeoff...and landing...and during turbulence...and when the plan turns...or slows down...or really makes any move other than stright flying...or goes through clouds...but other than that I am stouthearted.

2. I apparently have the words "NICE GUY" tatooed on my forehead in a special ink that only the disfigured, scorned, bitter, or semi-retarded can see. It's like I have this pheramone that sends off the signal "THIS GUY IS SAFE. HE WON'T HURT YOU. AND HE IS PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE ENOUGH IN SOCIAL SITUATIONS SO AS NOT TO TELL YOU TO LEAVE HIM ALONE."

For instance, one time I am walking in my neighborhood into a very busy convenience store (it's always very busy, it might be a drug front or something...hmmm). So as I enter a car horn blows. Me and the six other people going in stop and look at the driver in a "bothered" look as best as we could. Out of all seven of us he motions for me to come over. He needed directions. That's it. I mean, what gives? Why me? Do I look like I know how to get around places? Did I look like the guy he thought he could beat up if I tried something? As I thought about this, I wanted to steal his hubcaps just to prove him wrong about me, but I didn't know how. Note to self--nice guys don't know how to go about stealing someone's hubcaps.

ANyways...on this last trip, the most wonderful woman in the world and I take our place in line waiting to board our plane and talk amongst ourselves facing forward. Out of nowhere, this "special" woman in a flowery skirt, a pink sweater jacket, and thick glasses works her way through the line to the place behind us and gives this heavy whine-sigh-cough thing and straight levels her gaze at me. Uncomfortably, the most wonderful woman in the world and I turn around to check on her. Startled to find her drilling a hole into my head with her beady eyes, she explained directly to me while holding up her cell-phone, "That was my sister-in-law. She was asking about my flights."

All at once, a million thoughts ran into my head. The predominant one was, I bet that this was your brother's wife, not your husband's sister. I'd put a lot of money on that. I know...that was mean, but I am just being honest. In actual conversation, I opted for, "Huh...How bout that?!" and turned around, as did the most incredible woman in the world. But the conversation continued even after the physical hinting. She told me all about it--how she didn't like her sister-in-law. How she didn't want to be on the trip. How it was stupid to ask someone how their flights were before her flights were over. All of this in the time it took to board the plane. Never once did I feign interest or act like I wanted her to go on. At points I was even placing other people between us. But it didn't work. I thought for sure that as the most wonderful woman in the universe and I had our tickets scanned and made a dash down the floating hallway to get on the plane (what ever it's called, just go with it) we could put enough distance between us and her to cease the conversation. We got on the plane and took our seat breathing sighs of relief. Of course, she came and took the seat across the aisle from us--a perfectly good seat that countless normal strangers left open opting for lower quality seats.

Passive-aggressive as ever, I put on my headphones and faked sleep.

She watched me the entire flight.

Never fear, quesolitos, we lost her in baggage claim and victory was ours.

This one's for nice guys everywhere.

God save the Cheese.