ot more than five minutes after I board the plane, a soft-spoken St. Lucian man sitting next to me notices me smirking at a lively Dominican (from Dominica) lady and her friends. He turns to me with a smile...Him: Are you also Dominican?
Me: No, I'm Dominican (from the Dominican Republic).
Him: Oh and how long are you staying in St. Lucia?
[I don't want to end up talking to this guy the entire flight so I decide to keep my answers short.]
Me: Five days.
[Too bad he wants to continue chatting it up.]
Him: And where do you live?
Me: I'm sorry what? I can't hear you [over the important emergency exit instructions I'm trying to ignore you for. But still, I lean in.] What was that??
Him: Where do you live here?
Me: Oh, I'm in the Bronx.
Him: Ok, I live in New Jersey.
Me: [Good for you!] Good.
Him: [Pulling out a cell phone...] Let's exchange numbers.
Me: [What?! Cue nervous chuckle] Err...
[I face forward in the hopes that he gets the hint. He doesn't.]
Him: So...what's your number?
Me: No, why? I'm not going to call you!
Him: .....
I smile to soften the blow and turn back on my seat. Screw courtesy.
Moral: Don't risk rejection by someone you've just met and will be stuck next to for four hours. Save it for the landing.