Porter? I Hardly Knew Her

I flew into Toronto on Porter today. It's the first time I've flown this particular airline and the first time I've been at the Island Airport since I appeared as a carbon conscious world traveler for The Gill Deacon Show in early 2007.

I am not a nervous flier but I have seen enough movies and TV shows about airline disasters to know that if you hope to survive you need to be part of a diverse group of travelers. Specifically, if J.J. Abrams and Stephen King are to be believed, your chances of survival go way up if your flight includes, in no particular order: an actress, a former military man or doctor (usually also a pilot), a stressed out businessman, a foreigner, an experienced teen girl, a nerdy teen guy and a bitter writer.

Prior to the flight I do my due diligence and check out my fellow passengers. It’s a small group, 20 people at the most – always a good sign when you’re dealing with potential crash partners – and incredibly diverse: Struggling rock star (complete with guitar), sweaty guy in a suit, loud foreign couple and a girl with hair dyed black and multiple piercings.

We just might make it.

The flight is uneventful. I chat with my seatmate. She has been in New York and is traveling to Toronto only to catch a connecting flight to Montreal. I am at the unfortunate age where I can’t pinpoint the age of other people so she could either be the experienced teen girl or the struggling actress.

Moments before we land the stewardess hands out our Customs Declaration forms. I am the only person on the flight with a pen. My seatmate asks if she can borrow mine. For the second time on this flight, I am a hero. I can also lift 30 pounds and speak English.

I glance over at her form. She was born in 1986. Actress?

“Keep the pen.”

Later, when I reach the luggage carousel hers is the only other checked bag. I offer to carry her bag to her connecting flight.

“My name is Sarah.”

I know, I read your form.

That night, curiosity gets the best of me. I used to be better at this. Actress? Google. The only post I find is a brief mention on a message board:

“lol, this girl used to be in my highschool [sic]. We graduated from the same year. I saw her downtown about a year ago. She looked good. hehe Another one? Damn, what is with these Canadian women’s faces? They’re gorgeous.”

I click the accompanying link; my seatmate with a different name posing in and out of clothes, bending and stretching, touching and licking.

Actress.