How to Overcome a Fear of Flying

She raised an eyebrow and gave him an annoyed smokey look, "Watch it. That's already a few points off."

"Hey come on, a lack of confidence is something I was told I had to work on, shouldn't that have been a plus?" he said with a sly grin.

She gave a hefty chuckle, and he felt like keeping his eyes on her face instead of her bouncing tits was harder than lifting a barbell. She replied, "Some degree of self-awareness, alright," she mimed a check mark in the air, "Points earned."

"So the interview's already started hey?"

She gave an challenging smile, "In this case it's been going on since we stepped on the plane, my man. I'm assessing someone the moment I meet them, not just when the questions start."

"So does that mean you've already decided whether I've got the job or not?"

She narrowed her eyes, "Still could go either way. But come on, I think it'll be good for you. Interviews aren't that different one job to another, in the end."

He took a cool sip of his beer and shrugged, "Alright, well, go ahead then."

She seemed to stare him down and he sunk into her eyes noticing her finger slide over the top of her drink above the expanse of her tits in his lower vision. "Well, tell me about yourself then."

He was taken a bit off guard at the vagueness of the question but tried to get in character like he was actually in an interview. He cleared his voice, "Well I started out with getting a bachelors of computer science from the university of-"

"No I already know that from the resume. Don't bore me with that," she interrupted.

"It's relevant, isn't it?"

"Well yeah but it's just details on paper that I'd already have, what the hell do I care? I want to know what's special about you?"

"Well I got a 4.0 average..."

"Also on the resume. Boring numbers. So what?"

"So what? That's super hard to achieve. Especially when I did it in three and half years instead of four."

She sighed, seeming to put effort into being unimpressed, "So you're a workaholic then? Don't have any time for anything or anyONE outside of your computer screen?"

"I don't say that."

"You implied it."

"Well it's not true."

"So you DO have a girlfriend then?"

"No I don't....but that's not why."

He thought she gave a wider smile than was warranted, then she asked, "Why don't you then?"

"...that's not a question you'd ask someone in a job interview."

Her smile faded to annoyance, but it was still playful, "Fine. The point stands though. Tell me about YOURSELF, not the piece of paper on your wall."

He glared at her challenging eyes and could feel himself getting more comfortable sinking into them, finding them more gorgeous by the second. "My hobbies then?"

She shrugged, "That'd be a start."

"Well... I DO go to the gym, and I run a lot,"

"Oh my God, PLEASE tell me you're not someone who thinks simply exercising counts as a 'hobby',"

"What? Lots of people do,"

"So you're running marathons?" she asked skeptically.

"Well no."

"Look, you don't have to act like your some kind of jock, if you think it's gonna impress me, it's not."

"I wasn't..." he faltered, half-realizing she had pretty-much read his response better than he had himself. "Well I have other interests too."

"Such as?"

He hesitated.

She rolled her eyes, "What was the LAST thing you did for fun with your friends. Last weekend, or whenever....you DO have friends at least right?" she asked.

"Yes. And... fine. I... cooked for them." he said, slightly avoiding the full truth.

She narrowed her eyes, "K..."

"Like... it's sorta my thing, they say I'm really good at it and I DO enjoy it, like finding a recipe and seeing what works and experimenting with it. It's almost like a formula or a program where you do all the steps you need to, but it always needs debugging and altering to make it REALLY work, you know?"

Her gradually widening smile turned into a chuckle, "No, honestly I don't, but THAT DOES sound interesting. Now we're getting somewhere."

He rolled his eyes, "Like I know it's not something a lot of dudes do..."

"But they SHOULD," she responded emphatically.

"I mean I know how to grill really well too but there's more to food than that."

"Absolutely," she said, turning towards him and leaning in a bit more. "What did you make?"

"Last weekend?"

"Yeah."

"Well the starter was a stuffed shrimp, with cream cheese and herbs."

"Yeah..." she said, biting her lower lip.

"It was sort of a surf and turf then, so the main was a steak neptune, that was the hardest part making them all to order for everyone, when I had cut them smaller cause we were pretending they were... um, but anyway, they said I got them all right. It had a side of fondant potatoes made into the symbol of..." he cleared his throat. "And a broccoli rabe roasted up with garlic and almonds." He glanced at her, noticing her staring at him intensely. "Then for dessert it was a puff pastry in a... special shape filled with whipped cream."

He finished, kicking himself for almost giving away the level of geekyness the party had been, with the theme of his food.

The red thick flesh of her lower lip slowly released from her teeth as her eyes were glued to him with a very hungry look.

"Anyway they all said it tasted great, the puff pastries didn't rise quite as well as I wanted them to, but anyway it kind of brought the party together."

"No, that sounds fucking incredible," she said "I wish I could have been there,"

He shrugged, "I don't know if it would have been your kind of party."

"What do you mean?"

"Well what are your hobbies then?" he asked, redirecting her.

She seemed to come back to earth and finally took her eyes off of him, sitting up a bit straighter and taking an enticing breath in. She hesitated and to his surprise gave a self-conscious shrug.

"I um... still read a lot."

He decided she deserved to be teased back, "Oh wow, that's SO much more unique and interesting than running," he said sarcastically.

She swatted him with a frown, "It IS. Some people aren't into reading."

He rolled his eyes, "Shya boring weirdos," he joked, and felt a twinge of pride at making her giggle and lean her jiggling breasts even closer. "K, fine. What are you reading?" he asked.

"Right now? A... kind of Y.A. novel I guess. It's actually like a post-apocalyptic... thing, is that the right word? But like, this girl has to escape this crazy place. I mostly like the romance part of it, but I guess it's sort of like sci fi, but not really."

"There's nothing wrong with sci fi," he said, looking to the side.

She chuckled, "Oh of course not," and rolled her eyes, "but it's usually not my thing, just that a friend had recommended this one to me, and yeah, it's pretty good."

"Well, I mean there's a LOT of books like the one you're talking about these days, but it's at least a good gateway into the genre. Before my phone died I was reading a sci fi novel. It's a series, like this huge universe with a really steam-punk kind of aesthetic."

"K... you're not like... a trekkie or something are you?"

"Well no I'm not, that's way different, but... what would be wrong with that if I was?"

"Seriously?"

"No come on. They're passionate about something that they love, regardless of what other people think. It's a community that comes together sharing a deep fantasy world to escape all the bullshit." He finished and was surprised at how emphatically he was arguing, wondering if he was coming on too strong.

She gave a very different raise of her eyebrow though, "Well then... but YOU'RE not one of them though..."

"No but-..." he he looked away for a second to think, "Why do you read what you read?"

She shrugged, "It's fun."

"Why?"

"I dunno it just is. K like this novel is okay but I'm not gonna go all crazy and start dressing like the characters."

He shrugged, "Might be fun if you gave it a try, why not?"

She laughed and narrowed her eyes, "Because I like it, but I don't like it THAT much. Honestly, and you can roll your eyes all you want, but I'm mostly into romance novels."

"K," he said, making a point not to give a judgmental look. "And why do you like those?"

"Cause it's fun."

"Because..."

She gave a playfully annoyed sigh, "...and it's fun cause it's just a nice little fantasy land I can jump into and pretend I'm there instead of here."

"That kinda sounds familiar." he said with a smirk.

"What do you m-... oh fuck off it's NOT the same," she shoved him with a frown but let a smile sneak through before she sipped her drink again.

"Kinda sounds the sam-" he cut off when she shoved him again, though still had a half-smile on her face as she crossed her arms. He didn't know how he didn't glance at the bounce of her tits as she did so, other than that the challenging twinkle to her eyes was mesmerizing and kept his gaze on a leash.

The stewardess reached them and interrupted the short silence.

"Would either of you like to order a meal from the menu?"

She looked up, "Oh right. Actually yeah, give us a second."

"I'm good," he said with a wave of his hand.

"Naw get something. My treat," she said casually and opened the pamphlet between them.

"You don't have to."

"Yeah I know, but you went and got me all famished with your stories, Mr. secret-gourmet-chef, and I don't want to feel like a pig eating alone."

"What? No I'd never think that."

"Just... let's eat something. Pretend I invited you to a restaurant for the job interview. I'd pay for the meal if that was the case right?"

"I'm still being interviewed?" he chuckled.

"Yeah, so behave," she said with an elbow to his arm, "You were pushing it a little bit there."

"Oh was I?" he couldn't help but chuckle. "I don't know if I want to work for a boss who can't handle being told the truth."

She gave him a dark, smokey, tight-lipped look, holding his eyes for a long moment. "What are you ordering?" she finally asked him.

He glanced back at the menu for two seconds, "I'll get the chicken."

She sighed, "You think it'll be good?"

He shrugged, "It's... airplane food."

She stifled a laugh and gave him a playful closed-mouth smile with a cute pudgy dimple glancing up at the waitress whom she assumed he'd offended. "Fair enough. I'll get that too then."

The waitress politely nodded and took her credit card again without any break in her smile.

When the food was placed on their trays it looked just as un-appetizing as he expected, but he had to admit he was getting hungry and it would do the trick.

It tasted better than it looked though, and she asked him what he thought some of the ingredients were. He didn't really care but used it as an opportunity to describe how he'd make it if he was doing the same, and she seemed extremely interested in that.

"Why don't you become a chef if you're that into it?" she asked.

He shrugged, "I don't know if I'm THAT into it. I think it'd ruin it if it became my job. Just wouldn't be fun anymore, you know? And I enjoy eating what I make as much or more than making it."

"Cheers to that," she said, with a wry smile and lifting her drink. After they clinked their drinks she added, "Plus you'll almost certainly have a better salary and job security in your field."

"Definitely," he said. "Then I can use the funds to just go to the fancy restaurants and actually get to eat the food."

She gave a cute giggle, and then a sigh, "I wish I could go to fancy restaurants more."

"Why don't you?" he asked.

She gave him a sour look, "Because I have to put up with asshole dates to do it."

He scoffed and shook his head with a smile as he took another bite.

"You think I'm overreacting?" she asked, looking offended at his response.

He shrugged and chewed.

"I know it sounds sad, but I've seriously gone on dates being more excited about the classy restaurant than the guy. And, it's usually warranted. I had one guy look at me and honestly say 'Oh. You're really ordering more than a salad?' like there was something wrong with me."

He raised his eyebrows and swallowed, "Where'd you hide his corpse?" he asked.

She almost did a spit take and he swore her tits were almost going to bounce out of her shirt as she laughed. He took a swig of his beer, as he snuck a glance and felt a kind of confident excitement he hadn't felt in a while. "Seriously though, there is NOTHING wrong with you," he said honestly. "It bugs me when girls do that."

"Yeah well maybe I might have done it before when I was young and naive but I am so past that bullshit now."

"It's hard to picture you that way," he said.

"What, young?"

"No, naive."

She looked almost annoyed that he had smoothly saved his response and stared at him while she finished her cooler.

The stewardess interrupted the moment to take their trays.

"Would you two like another drink?" she asked.

After only a moment's hesitation she responded, "Yeah we'll both have another.

He looked at her face and inferred that he wasn't being given an option, but he didn't mind.

With the fresh drinks opened and the stewardess moved on, he watched her lean back and cross her legs again and knew they both had no desire to go back to staring at their phones.

"So what was your masters thesis about?" she asked him suddenly.

He looked at her, "You really want to know?"

She shrugged and sipped her drink.

"Do you want the long version or the short version?" he asked.

She chuckled, "Hit me with the long version. Go for it."

He thought for a short moment, took a fresh swig of his beer, and launched into it.

He liked his masters thesis. Apparently according to his colleagues he was supposed to be sick of it and hate it by the end based on their own experience, but didn't feel that way. He loved talking about it. He was used to giving dumbed-down layperson explanations of it but he decided this was a good enough excuse to go all out. She said she wanted the long version, so he didn't hold back and used all the jargon he felt like. He figured it was good, legit practice for the interview, but he tried to at least talk about it in an exciting way to keep her from falling asleep. Complicated explanations that he knew would likely fly over her head but that anyone in the field would be able to follow....Maybe she'd be impressed too. The thought came and went insidiously through his excited mind as he laid out what type of programming that already existed for the problem he had worked through and how he tested different methods for efficiency and adaptability and security. He let his enthusiasm show through and hoped that maybe some of it rubbed off on her. She wasn't rolling her eyes at least.

He finally stopped with a long breath, "...Did you understand any of that?" he asked doubtfully.

She took her time responding and he finally focused enough on her expression to see a very interested amusement that he wasn't sure what to make of.

"No. Barely a word," she admitted with a shrug and a short laugh.

"Okay well..."

He started into the 'short' version and tried to talk her through some basic layperson-level ideas and metaphors that would help to understand it, but he could tell she was barely picking it up. She was biting her lip and studying his face more than actually listening, he was fairly sure.

He sighed, "You still aren't really getting it?"

"I...kinda don't really care...?" she shrugged again half-apologetically.

She saw his disappointed expression and continued quickly, "But I could tell you knew what you were talking about." She tilted her head to the side and ran her finger along her drink again, "I could tell you have a passion for it and are actually genuinely interested in working to solve the problem or issue or whatever it was. To actually know what needs to be done and do it, on two feet like you mean it..." she said, with a smile that only touched the edges of her mouth, but with eyes that had a determined intensity to them.

He felt the compliment in his bones and said a genuine, "Thanks."

His smile seemed to make her catch herself and she drew herself up again and cleared her throat, then asked professionally, "So young sir, you still haven't told me how you think your masters work will be relevant to the position you're applying for here at our company."

He gave a fun smile back for an instant then wiped it away and got into character as well, "Well the position I'm applying for..." he said, "...as you clearly know..."

She stifled a laugh and sipped her drink.

"...will involve a lot of that same level of programming..." he continued, more seriously, pretending now in earnest like it was the interview.

He described the job as he understood it, what he knew about the company's work so far and where he thought they were headed.

She interrupted him though, "Wait why are you being like this?"

"...Like what?"

"Like... THIS." She gestured at him with a frustrated frown. "You're, like, flat and distant. You're talking all monotone, like you think I shouldn't be interested in what your saying."

"I'm... pretending I'm at the interview."

"And that means you should bore me to death? You were so excited before, talking about your thesis. I was too, it was fucking infectious, even if it was gibberish, give me more of that," she demanded with an annoyed frown.

He stared at her as the revelation sunk in. "I... didn't realize I was being interviewed with that part."

"Well you were. And, it was GOOD. I totally would have hired you but... have you been talking like THIS in your other interviews?" she chuckled derisively.

This time her judgmental tone irked him even more than before, "I'm just trying to act professional," he defended, fighting off an embarrassed blush.

"Ugh," she rolled her eyes. "Yeah no, if that's what you're going for, you're overdoing it. Although I'm not sure I totally buy it as an answer."

"What do you mean? It's professional communication, direct, efficient, if you ever went to a lecture or a research talk th-..."

"Oh I've never been to a lecture?" she interrupted, crossing her arms in insult, "You know there's such a thing as nursing school. I went to university the same as you."

"That's... a bit different," he insisted.

She scoffed in offence, "Just because all your profs were dogshit at public speaking isn't my fault. Professionalism doesn't mean boring and inhuman. Even if it does, the best interviewees are the ones who can balance it out. The ones who can show they got the knowledge but actually show who they are too, show they can have fun, and that they're not afraid to be themselves and not just hide a terrible personality behind that wall of 'professionalism'."

"I'm not afraid to..." he felt his anger bubbling up, hating that she was at least partially right, and clenched his jaw, "Look, it's a more technical field. I know h-"

"Ohhh right, cause nursing is just all touchy feely hand-holding bullshit, while you and your 'serious' technical field stands oh so superior," she mocked him sarcastically.

"I'm saying it's more... intellectual," he said, knowing it was still patronizing but caring less as he stared at those gorgeous bitchy eyes in defensive annoyance.

"Of course," she squinted with a more mean mocking tone. "Such a higher intellectual calling, where you all talk like nervous constipated robots. With no need for anyone who wastes their time with things like excitement, or personality, or having the balls to be their real selves."

"Oh come on." he scoffed right back at her. "Yeah 'cause we're all just geeks that hide behind our computers 'cause we're ashamed of who we are, right?"

She laughed without smiling and shook her head, "Your words, my man. I mean I would've given you the benefit of the doubt, but now y-"