Fakes on a Plane

“May I ask what you’re reading there?”

She looked up from the book, “Oh, it’s ‘All the Pretty Horses.’”

“Ah, McCarthy. Have you read any of his works before?”

“No, this is actually the first. It’s very interesting so far.”

“Yes, it is a very good book. However, I’d have to say his real masterpiece was ‘Blood Meridian.’ The narrative and imagery really is on a completely different level in that novel. All in all, it’s a chilling, unflinching tale, especially when compared with ‘All the Pretty Horses,’ which was a much more...self-indulgent story, in my opinion.”

She placed her bookmark between the pages and closed the book. Looking straight in the eye with a cheekish grin on her face, she said, “You sound like a deeply pretentious individual.”

He smiled back. With a laugh, he added, “Well, one who comes across as highly pretentious to some is a genius in the eyes of others. Take Andy Warhol, for example.”

The wailing of the infant several rows back interrupted his train of thought. “If I ever have kids – I’m not saying that I want to, but if I ever do – I am never, ever taking them on an airplane.”

“What if you want to, or need to, take your hypothetical children somewhere far away? What else can you do? Are you always going to spend ten times as long on a road trip?”

He looked shocked, “No way, I’m not going to spend that long in a confined space with a screaming kid. If we have to go somewhere far away, I’ll still take an airplane; I’ll send little Snot Nose by mail, or something.”

She laughed, “I’m not sure Canada Post will go for that.”

“What are you talking about? The bubble wrap will make it extremely comfortable and secure. I’ll poke some air holes in and write ‘fragile’ on the box. In fact, I’ll even have the package insured, just to make sure the little tyke’s safe.”

The grin came back to her face, “Only the best for your family.” Then she opened her book and continued reading.