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THE DATING GAME

Playing the game with our heads in the clouds

fgonzalez@MiamiHerald.com

Traveling as a single guy can be invigorating and unsettling at the same time. You usually hope the nice-looking woman reading a book or listening to her iPod outside the airline gate will be in your row. When you board the plane, you definitely take a peek at who sits where and who appears to be single. And when you get to your seat, you either hit the seatmate jackpot, or you're going to have plenty of time to read that Esquire you bought in case of emergency.

One buddy of mine, when he travels, takes on a second persona. His confidence rises, he wears that Eye of the Tiger expression, and on several occasions has picked up women on the plane (no, none of that Mile High Club nonsense) and taken them to dinner that night.

For me, air travel is more about hoping that takeoff is smooth and there are no storm clouds in our path. I am a terrible flier, always have had a slight phobia about it, though it has lessened as I have flown more frequently. But it always affects my confidence level, something vital when chatting up the opposite sex.

Usually when I try talking to a woman in my row, she eventually plugs in her headphones and (a) pretends to watch the in-flight TV show; (b) falls asleep; or (c) pretends to fall asleep but somehow has a sixth sense to awaken just when the flight attendant is serving beverages.

But traveling with someone is completely different, as I found out during my first flight with CoolGirl.

Unlike the planning of the trip, when everything sounds exciting and possible, on the morning of the flight, you start to learn a lot about your date.

Does she like to get to the airport in what seems like a half-day before the flight, or does she like to slide in with 30 minutes left on the clock? Does she eat at home before departure, or does she prefer the delicacies of the airport kitchen?

Is she a carry-on kind of girl, or does she check tons of baggage? Does she dress for travel (and the inevitable security checkpoint dressing room) as if it's a night at the club, or an OnDemand night at home?

And then what will happen once you are on the plane? Will she be a reader, a steady drinker or a nonstop talker? Will she enjoy flipping through the SkyMall magazine and making fun of products like the alarm clock that spins around the room until you get up and catch it, or will she actually make a purchase from the catalog using the SkyPhone?

CoolGirl was a carry-on type of woman, so we got to the airport an hour before takeoff, zipped right through security (no heavy jewelry here), and had enough time to grab a snack.

As we waited, she broke out the Sudoku -- an entire magazine of those number puzzles. (What about Jumble? Where's that magazine?) She asked me if I played, and I said I didn't know the rules. She gave me a quick lesson, and I was addicted.

Once we boarded, we had to stow our carry-ons, which is always a pain despite the benefits upon landing. As I searched for a spot for my bulging Samsonite, CoolGirl already had stored her modern-chic bag and sat down. As I turned to tell her I was going past our row to find space (in the process, upsetting the flow of people behind me in the narrow aisle), she looked at me as she fastened her seat belt and said ``Good luck with that. I guess you have some baggage.''

My jaw dropped. Was she delivering a shot at my suitcase ineptitude? Then she smiled, laughed, and I laughed, too.

She had the SkyMall magazine open and ready for ridicule. This was going to be a fun trip.

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