Delta flight 2442 departed Sunday, March 24, 2019, from Atlanta, GA (ATL) to Newark, NJ (EWR) at 12:48 PM. She was seated in the pointy part of the airplane, he was not. Business trip, or so they thought. He was excited about the resurgence of hope and prospect of becoming a slightly below average golfer that could play a round without losing $32 worth of fancy balls. So excited that he wore a t-shirt bearing the name of the facility that was going to turn Hagan into Hogan. The Choo Choo Golf Academy. She was already served Prosecco, of course. Comfy in her chosen travel attire, including the ‘statement piece’, orange loafers. Her outgoing personality was on display, despite Sunday travel, conversing with the astute flight attendant. Oh no, she thought, or something similar, realizing she needed her overhead bag, popping up to get it just before the seat belt sign chimed. Did I mention he also had a notebook with the Choo Choo Golf logo affixed to the front? So much hope. Just as he was about to jot down some thoughts from his lesson, the clever flight attendant said “The Chattanooga Choo Choo” turning his swing thoughts into thoughts of Cheez-Its and those delicious cookies. With no regard for Personally Identifiable Information, the attendant says, 'there is a lady in the pointy part of the airplane from Chattanooga.' Maybe it was the Cheez-It’s, but he wondered if she was the orange shoes that had to get up after everyone was seated. Cute, he thought. The ‘ladies and gentlemen’ arrived at EWR on time. And for these two somewhat frequent flyers, it was go-time. Time to seamlessly navigate the airport, baggage claim, rental car, and Google the way to the Marriott Bridgewater, where a cold beer and March Madness basketball awaits. No wasted time, no wrong turns, the world will see why she is an experienced traveler, she thought. Luggage was not a problem for her either, he noticed, after seeing the orange shoes and very cute curly hair. Nice pace, she has talent. Holding her phone atop the telescoping handle of her suitcase, he bet she was trying to find the same thing as he was, the gosh darn Hertz rental desk, he thought she thought, or something similar. Hertz, finally. Why is it downstairs, around the, detached from...he said to himself. Fortunately, the two lines were short, and he walked up and handed his papers to the agent before looking to his right to see orange shoes. Well good, she found it too. “You’re from Chattanooga.” It came out more as a statement than a question. Instant anxiety as if blue lights flashed in the rearview mirror. Gulp. “Yep, I am.” A strictly concise answer to a yes or no question that under any other circumstance he would have loved. Who are, how do, she thought, or something similar. “I’ll talk to you outside.” she said. It came out as a statement because it was one. He waited, despite realizing he has very seriously interrupted travel-mode, partly because he wanted to reassure cute curly hair that he was not crazy, and partly because she literally said she would talk to him outside. Mostly, he just wanted to say safe travels and goodbye. And that is precisely what he did. She blocked it out, there is still work to do, a 35-mile drive; no time for distractions, especially after the Hertz treasure hunt. He did the same. Ah, home away from home, the Marriott. The rewards number ranks with his social security number, childhood landline, and ‘best’ golf score which really should not be in this ranking at all. Check-in, drop bag, basketball. The double take all but stopped him in his tracks, curly hair, on the phone, papers scattered on the table. After she hung up, he thought he should tell her he wasn’t stalking her. Do you like sports, he said. It came out as a question. She said yes...