by Kerry Taylor
Genre: Romantic Comedy
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Josephine is in her mid-thirties and is fed up that she has never been love. On a trip to Bahamas, she has the pleasure of sitting next to Robert, or in her eyes, Brad Pitt. Robert, who is in an unhappy long term relationship with another woman, develops a soft spot for the woman he nicknames Beyoncé. . This is the first of many trips, but will they ever reunite? Will it be too late for their high-flying attraction if they do? US meets UK in this cross-Atlantic romance.
Let's talk "STYLE" with the leading ladies of Fly, Pray, Love!
I arrive at the airport and I feel relief at the news I am given The plane is delayed. I am in heaven. One hour, thank you for your bad weather, London, one plus of living in the UK. Thank goodness for the leaves. Now they are affecting the planes.
If only I had packed properly, I argue with myself as the air stewardess claims my baggage is overweight.
“Yes, that is true in bodily size, but in suitcase sizes how that is possible? How can I be ten kilograms overweight? What are my options?”
“Go on a diet!” she exclaims under her breath.
“I have never been so insulted,” I exclaim.
She responds, “Are you sure? You women go on holiday to our islands just to get a man. Can you not find one locally? Just do an ad in the local newspaper. You will get one in no time.”
I start to furiously scratch my head.
“Did I not pay for this flight? Do I not pay your wages, so you can support your fifteen children back home? Why I am going, and what I am going for, is none of your business,” I start screaming.
Seriously, is this madness happening to me, or am I just dreaming? I wonder.
“Let me pay for the excess and speak to your supervisor,” I tell the attendant.
She leans over and whispers, “If you want to wait for my supervisor, I am not sure you will make your flight!” Then, she winks! I start to feel a rage take over me, I need to stop and calm myself down. I am unable to think right now, so I start taking a few deep breathes then reluctantly pay for the excess and take note of the attendant’s name.
First thing when I arrive, I’m writing a letter. I start composing it in my head. I voice this out loud.
The attendant ignores me.
“Can Olivia Brent, Kanesha Grant, Josephine Mensah, Sandra Wilson, and Natasha Thomas please make your way to Gate number 20, this is the final call.”
I shout out, “Shit, they are right, they are calling our names!”
Like mad women, we all rush to the gate as if our lives depend on it.
Olivia, with her curvy figure and tight clothing, is running with one breast hanging out of her low cut top. Running like it is the first time she has ever run in her life. We point out her breast, and all she can scream is, “I do not care! I do not care!”
We try to sort ourselves out before boarding the plane. It is obvious we do not do a very good job. The smirks of laughter as we get on the plane make it obvious. The worst part about it is all we can shout to the two ladies that are causing most of the commotion is, “Just take the damn wig off and Olivia put your breast in! Kanesha, take off your shoe!”
Kanesha replies, “I can’t! I did not bring any other shoes!”
“Well, you cannot be walking around with one shoe, can you?”
“I have another pair in my bag that will fit.”
We all turn and look at Natasha.
“What – I bought another pair before we boarded!” The flight to Portugal seems to last a lifetime. There is only one thing on all of our minds, Let us get to the villa and sort ourselves out. I am dying of hunger, and sweating like a pig. I really need to exercise more, and the little trek we took to get on the plane made that obvious. Sandra and that bloody wig are the things that constantly race through my mind.