I took a flight from Anaheim to Vegas once in my late 20’s to see a concert. It was a southwest flight with no assigned seats. I was early to board and chose a window seat. As the plane filled up a gorgeous blonde haired, blue eyed, twunk in his early 20’s sat next to me. He was stunning. He struck up a conversation with me and our lives together flashed before my eyes. It’s like the world moved in slow motion. He had perfect skin, teeth and hair and was so interested in me. The conversation was flowing and I was getting more and more into him as the flight went on. Before I knew it, they were announcing that our 45 minute flight was preparing to land. As I was praising the conversation and saying that we should keep in touch, he reached into his bag, presumably to get something to write his number on, and said he felt the same way.
Then he handed me a magazine about John Smith and the Mormon Church and told me how much better Vegas would be with God. I thought i met the man of my dreams and he was just recruiting heathens to his religion. I remember letting a quick cackle slip as a sense of embarrassing foolishness pulsed through me.
To date, whenever I see a beautiful blonde, or a Mormon, I smile thinking about our wonderful 45 minutes together and how ridiculous I felt when I realized I wasn’t getting married, I was getting saved.