Flying the Friendly Skies 2

Read Flying the Friendly Skies 1

Michael and I sat across the aisle from one another on our flight into Sacramento. I was resting my eyes as we prepared to land when I heard the flight attendant say to Michael, “You look way too young to be married!” She had noticed his wedding ring.

“Oh, well how old do you have to be?” Michael replies.

“I don’t know, at least 25 or 26. How old are you?”

“Thirty.”

“Oh my gosh, you don’t look thirty at all!” Michael smiles, revealing the very dimples that often instigate comments like these.

“Guess how long we’ve been married?” I pipe in from across the aisle, thinking this will impress her even more.

She just laughs. Ha ha ha ha. I ask again, thinking maybe she didn’t hear me over the noise of the landing gear descending. More awkward laughter. I’m confused until I realize she thinks I am joking. Like, “Yeah right, sister, you wish.” Soon realizing her error, she stammers, “Oh, you two really are married!”

How embarrassing. So is it that I look way too old for Michael, or he looks way too young for me? I think I’ll try to look at it that way, like I snagged a hot younger guy, way to go me.

But then I realize it likely has nothing to do with age, but maybe appearance? Are we a mismatch? Or it could be the fact that we weren’t sitting right next to each other. Yes, that must be it. Except now, the friendly male flight attendant has joined in the conversation, and, much to my dismay, I soon realize where this is going.

“You know who you look like?” he gushes to Michael.

“Ummm …”

“Leonardo DiCaprio!” he declares with vigor.

The she-attendant asks Michael to remove his sunglasses and hat so she can inspect this assertion. Of course, she concurs with he-attendant’s discovery and then it is 10 minutes of nervous giggles and admiration, as if it were Leo himself sitting there.

I will admit, this is not the first time we’ve been through a similar situation. This happens quite often, although it was far more frequent in the faux-twins’ (Michael/Leo’s) younger days. When we were about 18 and Romeo and Juliet had just come out, Michael was a near dead-ringer for Romeo, and was regularly approached by giggling teens, and even asked for autographs. Oh, and then Titanic came out, and Michael may as well have been the King of the World.

But this was the first time all the attention made me feel a bit self-conscious. As if these stewards of the sky were secretly trying to hint to Michael (from behind the bulkhead wall that was only partially protecting them from my view), “Pssst, hey, you could be a MOVIE STAR, what are you doing with her?!!” Accompanied by raised eyebrows and a not-very-sly head tilt in my direction.

By this point, Michael was more embarrassed than I think I’ve ever seen him. And I had shrunk down in my seat a little as well. We barely escaped the plane with our dignity, practically running from the other passengers who had now joined in the revelry. We made it safely to the baggage claim area and sat down to wait for our luggage. About two minutes later, he- and she-attendants come walking our way, joined now by the pilots and another attendant. “Hey Leo!” They all shout across the crowded lobby, stars in their eyes. “Can I have your autograph?” Fits of laughter. “Oh my gosh, it’s Leonardo DiCaprio!”

Oh my gosh, mortification. Ah, well, such is life with a movie star by your side. Now, where is that limo to pick us up?