17B

How ya doing Miss Thang? I see you relaxing, reclining, riding that gulf stream breeze aboard your 747, please. I can’t help but stare at the back of your head, at your mouse brown hair gleaming amber against the penetrating sun’s rays. You squint in defense, sun bothering you Miss Thang I’ll gladly close the blinds for you. Fat person in the aisle seat though, stuck. You order a bloody mary from the stewardess and all I can keep thinking about is ordering up a heavy shot of you, hold the ice I like my Mary’s hot. Is that your name Miss Thang? Mary, Elizabeth, Jasmine, Madame Curie? No matter all I can really do is stare from afar and hope my drool doesn’t stain my good pants. Why you keep looking back Miss Thang? Stealing peeks at me, or the other lovestruck saps? What was that Miss Thang? Tossing me a wink while I was turning my head, but I caught ya from the side of my vision. Eyelashes fluttering and mischief playing on those lips. As I walk past your aisle on the way to beat out the 4 toddlers for the lavatory. You stuck out your leg a bit, black heels embracing your hazelnut skin. You didn’t even look up at me, not even a “hi”? Playing hard to get, I like. Striding back I take a look at your seat number, mmm 17B. Walking past I can’t help but smell you. Reminding me of a field of flowers on a summer day is what you might want a smooth playa to say, but I ain’t no such thang. All I can do is just go “guffawbleah”. And try to play it off as its Chinese. You laugh though and this time you be glancing at me from the refuge of your seat. I can’t help but feel a little cocky, a little confident. Then as I proceed to buckle my seat, I notice I gots a piece of toilet paper stuck in my fly. To think we was making progress. To think how we so high we can kiss the sky, get married, laugh and love. Give me something Miss Thang. Cap’n says we landing in a few, and I’m set on committing right now. Wheels landing, hearts still soaring, lets not waste this opportunity. Leaving me Miss Thang? For realz? Don’t leave now, how bout coffee at the baggage claim? I thought you were having a good time, this mile-high version of redlight/greenlight, ‘cept we been stuck on yellow for some time. Air traffic control be telling you no? Have a go, let’s take a ride cause you’ve already flown off with my love Miss Thang in seat seventayne-B.

– Leupe

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