Ahh, Paris

The huge plane bumped as it hit the runway at Charles De Gaulle after the 8 hour flight from the US.  It taxied slowly toward the gate, parked and finally, the doors were open and tired and sleepy travelers filed out, anxious to greet the Paris morning, with its brilliant sun and unusually warm temperature for this early in May.

The flight attendants began their patrol, moving from front to back to recover all the odds and ends that had been inadvertently left behind.  Near one of the bulkheads, at the back of the plane, one of the attendant's eyes suddenly opened wide.

“Pardon me,” she said, the lovely French accent very prominent.  “Madam, monsieur,” she added, a little louder this time.

The young couple, obviously highly engrossed with each other either didn’t hear or didn’t care as they pressed even more tightly together.

“We have landed.”  Much louder this time, but with the same result.  The intertwined couple was obviously more intent on sucking face than on leaving the airplane so, now slightly perturbed and even more impatient as she had her own lover waiting, she poked the young girl.

An eye opened half way, then wide as a startled look crossed the young face.  “Oh my gosh,” she said softly.  As she spoke, the boy’s head turned toward the attendant, the look on his face suggesting she was an alien, who had no business intruding on his world.

Taking advantage of the fact that both were now looking at her, the attendant said in a very stern voice, “The plane has landed and all the other passengers have left.  Please hurry, before they close the inner door.”

“Jason, let’s go,” the now red-faced girl said, quickly standing up and banging her knee against the bulkhead.  “Ouch,” she yelped, and Jason immediately began rubbing her knee under the eyes of the now very non-sympathetic attendant.

“Quickly!” was the curt reply.

“Jason, not now,” the girl whispered, pushing his hand away.  

To her relief, the attendant noticed the wedding ring on the girl’s hand, happy that she did not have to deal with what might have been a runaway couple, although from the face and the size of the girl, she wondered just how old they were.

“Jason, I said stop!” the girl said through gritted teeth, again pushing away the hand that had wandered further up her leg.  “We’re in Paris – let’s go.”

“I’m ready any time you are,” he murmured, a sexy huskiness in his voice as he ran his eyes up her body to finally meet her eyes.

Christina looked over at the attendant, the exasperation on each face nearly matching.  “These all-night flights are difficult,” she said, trying to smile as she stepped backward in the space between the seats so that Jason couldn’t reach her.

“Yes they are, but we must hurry,” the French accent said again.  She glanced around at the now totally empty plane.  “Please, follow me,” she gestured emphatically.

Jason, still only half conscious and with only one thought on his mind, could vaguely hear what the attendant was saying but it wasn’t registering.  He swiped again at Christina, but she was too far away and he grunted.

“Hey, babe, sit down here,” he motioned, patting the seat next to his.

The attendant had finally reached her limit and grabbed Jason’s shirt.  “Monsieur, once again I tell you it is necessary that you leave this plane immediately.  If you don’t, I have no choice but to call security.”  With that she stood up straight and waited, glancing at Christina who’s face now held a frightened look.

“Ja-son,” she said very slowly, emphasizing both syllables.  “I don’t want to start our honeymoon in a security office, answering a lot of stupid questions.”  She spoke slowly and distinctly, hoping that somehow he’d get the message.

Still half asleep, but sensing the urgency in Christina’s voice, Jason sat up, looked over at the attendant and did a double-take, as if he hadn’t been aware that she was there – which he hadn’t.

“Yeah, okay,” he mumbled.  “Let’s get to the hotel, okay.”

Christina closed her eyes, slowly shaking her head, and the attendant couldn’t help but smile, despite her frustration.  “Des hommes,” she thought.  “Ils sont identiques partout dans le monde.” (which translates roughly to "Men.  They're the same the world over.")

So, Christina and Jason gathered up their things and filed out of the plane; Christina anxiously intent on seeing the wonders that Paris had to offer and Jason intent on . . . well, his intent was obvious, but he’d go with his new wife to see the sights too, at least if he knew what was good for him.  And if he didn’t, he’d quickly learn.