When I Used the Question as a Pickup Line
Episode 9 of the podcast
Estimated reading time: 11 minutes (or watch the video!)
The alarm went off at 2:30 a.m.
With only about 6 hours of sleep in me, I had to glance out the window to remember where I was.
The dark hotel parking lot was unmistakable. I was in Newark.
I got ready and threw my hair into a ponytail, too exhausted to put as much effort into my appearance as I normally do.
Every flight attendant knows there are certain routes and destinations that require more patience and energy than others. I think most would agree that Newark is one of them. Besides the chaos that comes with any airport in the New York City area, the passengers, gate agents, and crews in that hub are generally blunt, and quick to express any dissatisfaction. The first flight on the agenda—Newark to San Francisco—is known for being especially demanding.
A couple hours later, boarding was underway, and I was positioned in the aisle. Even though we had about 20 open seats, the situation was very hectic—especially concerning baggage. I tried to help several people find space for their suitcases, but was unable to do so for a handful of passengers.
Despite my best efforts, most of these people were upset. They scurried to the back of the plane in a frazzled cluster of frustration. Once the aisle was clear, we had the gate agent check their bags into the cargo hold.
One of these people stood out. While everyone else rolled their eyes and grumbled, he smiled and shrugged it off, then simply dug through his suitcase for everything he needed during the flight. I greatly appreciated how understanding and easygoing he was.
After service, the same man came to the galley and asked for another coffee.
We chatted a bit to pass the time and warm up the social climate. From all our positive interactions, I got the sense that he’d enjoy being part of the music project. So, just before he headed back to his seat, I told him about the Happiness Soundtrack and asked for his song.
My suspicions were correct—he was delighted to contribute! He took the journal with him to fill out at his seat.
After a few moments, he returned and asked for a napkin. “Oh, did you spill your coffee?” I asked. “I can pour you another.”
“Oh, no,” he said. “It’s so I can write something to include in your book.”
I tilted my head in confusion and said he could just write it on the page. But he clarified that it was rather personal, so he didn’t want to leave it in the journal for everyone to see. Intrigued, I smiled and handed him a napkin.
A few minutes later, he was back—asking for another napkin. I smiled again as I gave him a few more. “I can’t wait to hear this story! I’m on the edge of my seat here!” I chuckled.
Finally, he returned with the book and handed me the napkins. He smiled and thanked me for asking. As soon as he stepped away, I dove into the journal.
First, I read the entry he’d written on the page.
It was deceptively ordinary—just the song title and the artist. Then, I read the story on the 3 napkins that accompanied it.
He started by sharing why the song is significant to him and his girlfriend. I smiled as I read how he had once played it for her, and when they went through a rough time apart, she had overheard it and took at as a sign they should reconnect. Now they’re back together, and very happy.
Then the tone of his story shifted to something more personal, and my smile shifted accordingly. He divulged that he and his girlfriend would be interested in sharing more than just music with me.
My eyes widened as I reread the last portion of the napkin, trying to make sure I had understood it correctly. But yep, message received… along with his phone number.
Now I knew why he hadn’t wanted to write everything in the pages of the journal. I guess the disheveled ponytail look was working for me.
I’m sure some people would’ve been put off by such a move, but I found it both flattering and incredibly brave. Besides, I had asked a personal question, so I couldn’t be surprised at getting a personal answer.
After a few minutes, I approached him with a gentle smile, and thanked him for sharing.
“I realize that anytime I ask someone this question, it puts them in a vulnerable position. It takes a lot to share something so personal, and I really appreciate it. Thank you for being so open.”
I didn’t mention anything about his suggestion to take things further. He might not have even realized that I’d gotten the message behind his story.
The next day, I was working a flight with a guy named Jalen.
He was lighthearted, easygoing, and had a great sense of humor. After boarding, he pointed out a girl in the aisle who he had a crush on, and asked me to go give her a water.
“What? If you think she’s cute, why aren’t you giving her the water?”
“I don’t wanna come on too strong,” he said.
“Water is strong? Ha! I’ve had stronger,” I chuckled.
“Oh, really… Like what?” he asked, excited for a juicy story.
“Well, a guy yesterday gave me his number on a napkin, along with… quite a note.”
“And that didn’t bother you?”
“No, I was flattered. Plus I had asked him to share something personal anyway—for a music project I’m doing. He did get more personal than most people do, but more than anything, I admired his courage. That took a lot of guts.”
“That’s true,” said Jalen before I continued.
“The crazy thing is, though, I hadn’t picked up on any cues that he was interested. If he hadn’t written that, I never would’ve known.”
“Hm,” he responded. “What are some cues that women are interested? Can you tell if that girl would be open to me asking her out?”
This evolved into a stimulating conversation that lasted the whole flight.
Jalen and I shared several secrets about the way our genders indicate romantic interest.
“So when a guy touches your jewelry… that automatically means he’s interested?”
“Oh, absolutely,” he said. “That’s him trying to gauge how open you are to him being close.”
“Fascinating!”
“Another indicator is if you’re talking and he’s trying to keep the conversation going. If he’s interested, he’ll find a way to keep the ball rolling,” Jalen said.
By the end of the flight, I felt quite educated. I expressed my gratitude before I left.
“Well, thanks for all the inside information!” I said. “You know, my takeaway from this conversation is that I need to make more moves. There were times I did sense that someone was interested, but I didn’t act on it. And now, knowing all this, I’m pretty sure I missed some opportunities. So next time, I’m just gonna go for it.”
“You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take!” he replied.
We wished each other luck, then parted ways.
A few days later, I was working another flight.
For that one, I was positioned at the boarding door, making sure everyone felt welcome as they entered the plane.
As people made their way onboard, I glanced down the aisle intermittently, looking for anything I could help with to keep things running smoothly. But this was one of those times when the best thing to do was stay out of the way.
When I turned my attention back to the doorway, I saw a very tall, handsome man standing directly in front of me. He was leaning against the compartments, suggesting he was just as comfortable on this plane as I was. His head was crouched (so as not to hit the ceiling), and his gaze was on the floor. The soft smile resting on his scruffy face implied patience and a willingness to go with the flow. He was truly one of the most relaxed and easygoing passengers I’ve ever encountered, especially during boarding.
Considering the frantic energy that typically makes its way through the boarding door, I was immediately curious about this guy.
Just then, he looked up at me. When our eyes met, there was a mutual and undeniable sparkle.
It wasn’t the quick and casual sort of glance you normally make with a total stranger. It was a look that said, “Oh wow… you’re really cute.”
What’s more, his demeanor, the warmth in his smile, and his sense of calm expressed a kind and sweet soul within.
He smiled warmly, and lingered in my gaze a bit longer than is considered customary. Not a word had been spoken, but through his stance and eye contact alone, he had already exuded confidence and expressed attraction. And not just for my appearance, but for the spirit he’d gotten a glimpse of.
“Hi, welcome aboard,” I smiled.
They were the exact same words I said to everyone… but he knew I meant them more personally than I normally do.
“Thank you,” he smiled in reply.
Then, traffic began to move. The passenger pushed himself off the wall and reached his left hand behind him, calling out playfully to the two young girls who had been standing there. When he brought his hand back around, I made a point of checking for a wedding ring—because that’s what you do when you’re single at 38.
I didn’t see one.
All systems go.
After boarding, I made my way through the aisle to do the safety checks. When I noticed a particularly attractive configuration of familiar clothing, I looked up and recognized the handsome passenger. Once I was a few rows behind him, I turned and looked up to see which row he was seated in.
I was determined to find a way to talk to the man in 31D.
About an hour into the flight, we had finished service.
I finally had a chance to make a move. I knew I needed to go chat with this guy, but I didn’t know how.
Do I just walk up to him and start talking? What do I say?
Then, I remembered the Happiness Soundtrack. It was the perfect ice-breaker! Such an interaction was totally routine (for me), and completely innocent under normal circumstances. I knew it would be a great way to connect—without showing explicit attraction or romantic interest.
I unzipped my purse, grabbed the journal, then disappeared into the dim cabin. I spent the whole walk down the aisle giving myself a pep talk.
Okay, Janna. You can do this. You’ve done it a hundred times already; you know exactly what to say.
As I approached 31D, I saw him crouched over a Sudoku puzzle on his phone. I walked right up to him, leaned down, and smiled.
“Hi,” I said warmly.
He looked up, smiled back, and said hello.
“I wanted to ask you a quick question,” I said.
His smile grew a little, expressing openness. I showed him the journal and continued.
“This is my music project. I hand this journal to people, and they write about a song they associate with a happy memory. What song that comes to mind for you?”
He sat back and looked away as he pondered. I enjoyed watching his eyes sparkle as his smile slowly crept up more of his handsome face.
“That’s a cool idea,” he said. “Can I take a minute to think about it? I’m gonna look through my playlist.”
Swoon… Even his voice was attractive.
I left him with the book and said to bring it to me when he was done. Then, I headed to the galley and started chatting with my crew member. We began discussing our own songs and sharing the memories.
A few moments later, 31D joined us.
I said we had just been talking about our songs, and would love to hear his as well. He chose “Do You Realize” by the Flaming Lips, because it reminds him to be present.
“When I’m spending time with my daughters, or if I’m out hiking, the song helps me remember to just stop and appreciate life. It reminds me to be in the moment; that life is finite, and the memories I create with my daughters echo in time throughout their lives.”
I immediately admired his depth, and a common value for quality time. I also liked how he spoke about his daughters. Throughout our interactions, came across as very kind, supportive, and protective—not just physically, but emotionally.
And I couldn’t help but notice that he kept finding ways to continue the conversation.
He’d ask me a question; I’d respond. I’d ask him something; he’d respond… and then he’d find another way to keep it going. Even though we weren’t alone in the galley, and he wasn’t ignoring the other crew, his attention was clearly on me.
One crew member asked why he was headed to D.C. He said he used to live there, and his folks still do. Now that he lives in Houston, he wanted to bring his girls to visit his parents for the holiday.
We spoke for several minutes, discovering many common interests and experiences—and enjoying every second.
Eventually, the conversation came to a natural end. He said he’d better get back to his seat and check on his girls.
“It was really nice talking with you,” he said as he initiated a handshake. “I’m Michael, by the way.”
I smiled and formally introduced myself. I could tell from how our interactions had gone that he was interested in talking more, and I definitely sensed attraction. And again, not just for appearance, but for intrinsic qualities. It was mutual.
As soon as he left the galley, my crew member looked at me with wide eyes.
“Oh my god! He is totally into you!” she whispered.
I blushed and put my hand over my mouth, a bit embarrassed at how much I was smiling. Then I checked how much time we had left before landing preparations.
I had one hour to find a way to give him my number.
Before I knew it, time was nearly up—and I still hadn’t come up with a way to nonchalantly give him my contact info. So, I didn’t have the luxury of being nonchalant. I’d have to be direct. (Bold, dammit!)
I ripped a catering sheet off one of the galley carts, tore off a small piece, and scribbled my name and number on the back. Then, I walked down the aisle.
On the outside, I was totally calm. But inside? I was freaking out.
Omigod omigod omigod… What am I doing?! What do I even say?!
I’d never been so grateful for nighttime. At least he wouldn’t see me blushing.
Finally, I approached his seat. He was sitting there looking straight ahead—no headphones, no screen… just contemplating. When he noticed me making eye contact, he met my gaze and smiled softly.
I stopped at his seat and handed him the paper—without saying a word.
He glanced down at the paper, and smiled even bigger upon discovering what was written. Then, he looked back up at me and said, “Thank you,” through a smile.
I smiled back—then turned around and walked away. (If that’s a move, I guess I made one.)
After we landed, I turned on my signal and saw a text from an unknown number:
Hey, it’s Michael; thanks for including me in your project. ☺️
By the time I reached the parking lot, we had already scheduled our first date.
Want to hear Part 2 of this story?
Click here to read on :)
How about you?
First of all, how would you have reacted to reading that note in the napkin? And secondly, would you have made a move if you found yourself in the meet-cute situation I was in a few days later?
When was a time you were too scared to make the first move—and when was a time that you took action? How did it go? Share your thoughts and experiences below!