Love Your Nails

He had to ask...

Scanning tickets and phones to get on the plane and keep track of passengers was a thankless job but a necessary one. Debra proved she was more than equal to the task. She’d scan, glance at the passenger, and welcome the passenger on board with a toothy smile. Every fifth or sixth passenger she’d compliment on their appearance or clothing accessory. That way she kept enough distance between compliments so they were fresh and meaningful.

“Love the nails, Miss Hutton,” Debra said to the woman scanned in as Olivia Hutton. “Love ‘em. Have a great flight.”

“Thank you,” Olivia said and disappeared into the jet bridge.

“What about mine?” the next passenger – a man – asked with a smile. “Do you love them, Debra?”

Debra scanned the ticket, looked at the man, shook her head, and said, “Love the bald spot, Mr. Granger. “Dignified. Goes great with your gray head of hair. The nails, eh, they’d be okay if you didn’t bite ‘em. Not great, but better than they are now. Have a great flight, sir.”

Her wink and smile accentuated her words.

The man took his ticket and said, “Well played, Debra. Well played.”

He walked into the jet bridge with a smile lighting up his face.