I looked at the page and bit the tip of my pen. I always found it useful, before going into any social situation, let alone an unfamiliar, anxiety-ridden one, to have a set of small-talk questions in my arsenal, jotted down and memorized so they could be pulled out when the need arose. I always practiced conversations and found this very helpful. I tried variations of these conversations too, testing them beforehand like one might test a hypothesis. I lowered my pen to the page.
What do you do?This was always a good one, unless of course the person hated what they did, which would then throw the conversation into uncharted territory. I scratched that question off the list.
So what does your husband do?Ah-ha! This was a better one. This kept them talking about their husbands and their manifold delights. That was a question I could definitely use. And this time, when it led them to ask me what my boyfriend did, I could smile confidently and tell them he was a pilot. I sighed with relief. I could finally answer that question without it filling me with dread and anxiety. What I’d almost said to Andrew earlier, but didn’t, was that the question ofwhyI was still single didn’t have that much to do with my career, after all. That played a part in it, but it was also something else. Something about me, intrinsically. But that was not something I would share with him, not something I shared with most people. It wasn’t necessary in everyday dealings, but whenever relationships progressed to a certain stage I found that thissomething elsewas always the thing that tripped me up. That made it so hard for me, impossible even, to sustain any kind of relationship. But I didn’t want to think about that now, so I thought of some more questions.
How many children do you have?
What grade are they in?
What do they like to do?
All excellent questions, and I quickly practiced the various responses in my head to make sure they sounded perfect.
Two, how lovely, what a perfect number.
How sweet, grade one is such an important year for their development. (Or, maybe I should google that?)
Video games! Did you know that almost twelve per cent of children who play games will become addicted? (Okay, that might not be the best response to that question.)
I put my pen down when I felt the stranger next to me bump my arm. I leaned into the aisle as far as I could go, without offending him. I didn’t like touching strangers, I didn’t like strangers in my space, and whenever I flew I took an aisle seat so I wasn’t sandwiched between two people and could lean into the open. But the person next to me was a rather broad-shouldered individual and, in order to avoid him, I had to extend half my body at a very awkward angle all the way into the aisle. This had caused the air hostess to look at me oddly a few times.
I ran over a few more general pointers for tonight in my head.
Make eye contact, but not too much.
When they start looking around, they probably want to end the conversation.
Share, but don’t overshare. (This one was very important.)
Don’t just talk about yourself, ask questions.
Try to let the other person finish a sentence before jumping in and cutting them off.
Other people didn’t need to remind themselves of how to have conversations, but I did. Other people seemed to find socializing and interacting easy; it came naturally to them. Me, I always seemed to miss those unspoken social cues, the ones that people made with their body language and vocal tones. I struggled with the interactive nature of a conversation too, and often filled the spaces between sentences with things that others found inappropriate. Things that flew out of my mouth before I was able to censor them. Teenage masturbation probably being a prime example of that.
But tonight I wouldn’t do that. Tonight would be different.
Andrew glided the plane down for a very solid landing, despite the strong southwester, something the Cape was known for. The winds in Cape Town had caught many pilots off guard, making for plenty of go-arounds. But Andrew got it right first time, despite the very turbulent approach, despite the crosswinds that pushed the back of the plane out on the runway and caused a loud and dramatic skid as he slowed the plane down. He was a very accomplished pilot, but I’d known that. I hoped he would be an accomplished fake date too.
CHAPTER6
‘Okay, so I think we should set some ground rules for our arrangement,’ I said as we ubered together to my hotel. The reunion was in two and a half hours and Andrew was conveniently staying at a hotel close to me.
‘What kind of ground rules?’
‘No holding hands. No unsolicited touching. No kissing.’
‘I think that goes without saying.’
‘And we will need a convincing back story. How we met. How long we’ve been together. I would prefer it to be as close to the truth as possible, since I’m not a very convincing liar.’
‘We met a few months ago when I was a pilot and you were my air traffic controller. We talked to each other for months before meeting in a coffee shop by chance. We recognized each other’s voices, and the rest, as they say, is history.’
‘What history specifically?’
‘I asked you on a date, and then another one. We share a lot of common interests, like our love for our jobs. We fell in love. We’re even thinking of moving in together.’
‘That doesn’t sound like something I would do. Far too impulsive. I barely know you.’
