So there I was. I had just arrived in Doha after a long flight. I hadn’t slept on the plane at all, and while I wasn’t feeling too exhausted (yet), I was decidedly uncomfortable. The fact that my bankcard had decided to sulk in a corner and refuse my pleas for cash – during an 8 hour stopover- did NOT help my overall feeling of well-being.

Fortunately the WiFi in the airport is free and very simple to access. So onto Facebook I went, letting my loved ones know I was alive, reading the Top 10 reasons someone I don’t give two hoots about is wearing something terrible again. The usual. Then a young man saunters over and asks in a pleasant American accent, “Do you know how the WiFi works?” Well. Yes. A 3 year-old knows how it works – it’s the equivalent of clicking ‘on’. But I have had my fair share of brain farts, and I really enjoy talking to people. So I demonstrated my technological prowess, while he settled down for a chat. Let’s call him Fred. Fred was 21 and on his way somewhere awesome for ‘Business’, but had to leave soon for boarding. So we chatted happily for 15 minutes, then Fred left.

I returned to my online meanderings. Not 3 minutes later I look up to see the American standing over me. As I started to ask him if had forgotten something, Fred leaned right in and planted a kiss right on my lips. A second or so went past, with my brain frozen in place by shock; then the cogs began  turning again and I pulled away. He looked me straight in the eye and calmly said, “I would have kicked myself if I hadn’t done that, and then never saw you again.” Boom, just like that. Next thing I know Fred was walking away, fist pumping in the air like the final scene of ‘The Breakfast Club’.

Boy Meets Girl

Even though I feel like my face was violated, all I’m really thinking is, “Well played sir. Well. Played.”

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