Romance is a mystery everyone longs for but few know how to navigate. That's where Poptek's Andrew Ingram comes to help. A world traveler and a world reknown lover, your questions will finally have some answers as Ingram shares his vast wisdom of the wonder of when a man becomes enravished in the beauty of a woman.
Dating Dayton (Vol. 1): Andrew and the French Girl.
I want to tell you about my first romance. It was my first trip overseas. I was an innocent traveler on Air France. She was the enchanting flight attendant eager to help me. We were in love at first sound.
I had never heard anyone speak French, at least in real life, and definitely by someone so cute. When she first emerged from First Class to instruct us Economy seat peasants how to survive a catastrophe, I was enthralled with the language . . . and especially the messenger. Plus I felt safer at the sound of her voice, though I couldn't understand a word she instructed.
What was her name, you ask? Her name was Jeanette. Jeanette Picard. She walked up and down the aisle checking on passengers. Her blonde, pale-skinned beauty glowed throughout the dimmed cabin. I just had to talk to her. Those SkyMall magazines have to be good for something afterall. So I ripped out a page and slipped her my number. Rest assured I included the +1 country code. Unfortunately, cell phone use is prohibited on all domestic and international flights. So I had to become a little more assertive. Dating Advice # 1: Those assistance request buttons above your seat are lifesavers when you are trying to flirt with a flight attendant.
My first drink request netted me a Coca-Cola and a smile. My second request, to explain that I needed a Kosher meal, won me a bit longer of a conversation about being Jewish.
"Well, not really", I said. "I follow Jesus, so kind of, but I really like their food." Her broken English was as much of a turn-on as her native tongue. When she brought out my food tray, I had to send it back since I was really Gluten-free instead of Kosher. And when she returned with another smile on her face, I knew we would be together forever.
Now I know the question that is on everyone's mind. "Ingram, you sparked a romance with a French girl, on an airline, 10,000 miles above the sea. Does that mean you are a member of the fabled Mile High Club?" Charlatans! You should be ashamed for thinking such perversions. When you meet a beautiful woman, she is to be cherished and protected, complimented and cared for. A beautiful woman is not a man's free ticket into a phantom club that won't even show up when you need your car towed. She is a prize, a jewel, a precious partner to share your life and passions with. So no, I never would have viewed Jeanette in such a way.
But speaking of sharing, Dating Advice #2: Sharing is the way to a woman's heart. So I invited Jeanette to take a break and share my dinner. The passenger next to me had left his seat and had obviously gotten sick. So I knew Jeanette and I had at least 30 minutes to ourselves. The food was horrible. Not only was it airline food, but I wasn't really Gluten-intolerant. The time was so sweet though. We laughed. We cried. We shared our histories. We shared our dreams. Those 30 minutes were as timeless as I imagine heaven to be. And Jeanettte was as enravaged by me as I was her. The yells, buzzes, and drink requests from the other passengers just faded soundlessly away into the background, just like an ex-lover's insults. She was mine and I was her's.
Our conversations were honest and deep in no time at all. I had never felt like I could trust someone like I instantly trusted Jeanette. But just before we could get around to signing a mortgage together on that chauteau in Villefranche-Sur-Mer, she was called back to work. We were preparing for our descent in to Charles de Gaulle Airport.
As she carried out her duties, checking to make sure the other passengers had their seat belts fastened and seat backs straightened, I got a little jealous. I kept unbuckling my seat belt to get her attention. Each time brought another French chuckle and a smirk that warmed my soul. I was so proud of the woman she had become in just the short amount of time I had known her.
Yet this dream-sequence quickly became the first test in our relationship. I had started to notice that her co-workers and manager had become angered at the amount of time Jeanette spent with me compared to the other passengers. Some of them exchanged frustrated stares aimed towards Jeanette. Some snarky comments were even made. It all came to a point of turmoil when the flight landed. Jeanette was called up to the front of the plane by her manager. I couldn't tell what was said, but I could pick out this term, "Vous êtes congédié!". Now I don't know much French but I know enough to understand that it meant one of two things, "Fire!" or "You are fired!". Either way it was bad. I think Jeanette had just lost her job as a flight attendant.
Was love worth Jeanette losing her job over?
Well, I had another flight to catch to Barcelona, so I couldn't stay around to find out. "Au revoir, Jeanette. Je t'aime!"
Dating Advice #3: When we first met I thought Jeanette and I would be together forever. Turns out forever only lasted six hours. But that is still twice as long as the typical French film. So I will consider myself #blessed.
If you are reading this Jeanette, know that I will always remember and cherish those six hours we had. In my memory . . . that is where we will be together forever.