Shampoo-conditioner combos, sample-packaged mouthwash, tiny bars of soap. The people I meet on each flight? They're single-serving friends.
—Chuck Palahniuk, Fight Club
I find momentary conversation interesting. There’s a world of experience out there, and much of it is relayed through story. Talking to people on planes and at bars provides ample opportunity to hear and experience those stories second hand. It’s pulp fiction in audio form; whether or not the stories are fiction matters not. We go along for the ride when we listen to the stories someone tells, often suspending disbelief for a moment of shared pleasure: one weaving a story, one receiving it.
I met a traveling barber on my flight last night. The man gets flown out to serve artists on tour. He grabbed a seat on this flight to meet an artist who wanted a haircut, and would be traveling with said artist for the next few shows. Seems like a pretty cool gig.
Often on flights I’ll throw my headphones on and disappear into a game. I’ll disappear into a book or work at the bar. Most of the time, I want to be left alone. Not always, though. Sometimes I’m open to holding conversation with those around me, and I often find that most people are pretty decent. Rarely do I shut down conversation, and that’s usually with absolute tools.
I arrived at my destination with no fanfare, which is how I like it because it means everything went smoothly. And while I was physically transported to a different locale, I mentally transporting myself to a different world: I started reading Stephen King’s The Gunslinger once again. Right away, I was immersed in that world. The conversation with my neighbor was brief, and I dove into the book, and now it feels like I’m taking two different journeys at the same time.
Because I am.
“The man in black fled across the desert, and the gunslinger followed.”
Probably the single most iconic first sentence of any book, ever.
