Economy class, the way I have seen the world. The seats cramped. Chefs would scoff at the pre-packaged culinary delights and there isn’t always a TV behind the seat. However, when it comes to population density, economy always wins.
There I was on a flight to Buenos Aires via Atlanta. While I struggled with my oversized baggage, my eyes locked with a very handsome fellow traveler. He was charming and gave me a smile. Down to earth and friendly, he started a conversation with me, since we were sitting next to each other. I pulled out ” Running with scissors,” he complimented my selection in proper airplane lit. I loved him already. We took off for Atlanta.
A couple hours later, I was boarding a plane to Buenos Aires. Surprise, Mr. down to earth and charming was my neighbor on that flight too. Unfortunately, my gaydar was down. I couldn’t tell if he was gay or straight. I fell asleep on that flight. Our flight descended through the enchanting pampas into South America’s very own slice of Paris, Buenos Aires.
As we passed though the customs line, I told him “it was nice to meet you” and made my merry way to baggage claim. Buenos Aires is one of those very romantic cities. Portenos (Buenos Aires residents) speak Spanish with Italian accents. The buildings are reminiscent of romantic European capitals and wine flows freely like the mighty Rio de la Plata. One of my most significant memories in the Argentinean capital was watching tango dancers, while drinking a soda on the street.
The dancers were so graceful as they danced cheek to cheek and moved in perfect precision to traditional tango music. It seemed romantic; I was on holiday and wanted to fall in love somewhere romantic.
One night while having dinner on Avenue Santa Fe, I saw my plane seat neighbor. He was walking with a group of bears with large beards. He’s gay. In a big city like Buenos Aires, when will I run into him again? Somewhere in the cosmopolitan jungle, he re-appeared. We said hello to each other very briefly and hugged. A few days later, he re-appeared this time with a twink. I go to myself “oh they must be dating.”
After running into each other 3 times in Argentina, we didn’t see each other again during the trip. Serendipitously, we saw each other in the States, but once again didn’t truly hang out. Years later, I was on Facebook and found him. I friend requested him. He accepted.
Even though I was in New York, he in California, we kept in touch via social media. He had a serious boyfriend and we ended up becoming friends. Slowly, I humanized him and my own romantic feelings dwindled. Even though no romance ensued, we did end up establishing a friendship. I always love having guy friendships, especially with those I relate to.