This is a box of Pépito cookies I bought at the airport in
Nice before my flight to Oslo.
I don’t know why a brand of French cookies has a small
Latino boy wearing a comically oversized sombrero as its mascot, but given this video of some French dude in brownface, I feel safe in assuming the answer
contains the word “racism.” On a sidenote, they were delicious.
This is the note I passed to the woman sitting next to me on
the flight to Oslo.
She had her earbuds on and was working on her laptop, so I
didn’t want to bother her too much. But when she read the note, her smile when
she said “Yes, please!” was one of the most genuine and therefore most adorable
things ever. We talked for a little bit—she was visiting
family in Nice, but she lives in Oslo—and when I asked her if she was a student, glancing at her laptop, she
said that she was a journalist and was working a story on deadline. So I wrapped up the conversation.
Early in my trip, I made a decision that I wouldn’t actively
try to meet anybody romantically; getting used
to traveling alone was enough of a challenge without adding more complications.
Plus, I wanted this to be a vacation free from fret, including fretting about being
single. (I’d toss in something about wanting to get in touch with myself, but in
this context, that sounds a little gross.)
Still, though, in retrospect, the universe was probably
nudging me along here: As far as I could tell, we were pretty much the only people in our
twenties on the flight, and we happened to be sitting next to each other. And there just happened to be no one
sitting in the middle seat in our emergency exit row, despite the flight being pretty
full (and, I presume, someone would’ve enjoyed the extra legroom). And she’s a writer, which I think is
pretty cool. And apparently she’s the
type who reacts with delight instead of bemusement when passed a note despite
the fact that neither of us are in middle school. And she had a completely heart-melty smile, which, arrgh.
Is it too late to post a missed connection on Craigslist Oslo?
YOU WERE SITTING IN 14A ON A FLIGHT TO OSLO FROM NICE. I WAS IN 14C. WE SHARED SOME POSSIBLY RACIST COOKIES, AND WE CHATTED FOR A BIT, BUT YOU MENTIONED YOU WERE ON DEADLINE, SO I DIDN’T KNOW IF YOU WERE JUST POLITELY ENDING OUR CONVERSATION AND DIDN’T WANT TO KEEP BOTHERING YOU IF THAT WAS THE CASE, BUT IN RETROSPECT, I GUESS THERE PROBABLY WOULDN’T HAVE BEEN ANY HARM IN QUICKLY ASKING IF YOU WERE FREE FOR A DRINK SOMETIME AS WE DEPLANED. SO, UH, EMAIL ME?
Yeah, that’s completely creepy. I guess I should’ve just done this in the
moment. Ah, poop.