Monday, 29 December 2008

• Quest for the Stripper Flight

  Guest blog by manilajones
  

  There was an urban legend that I heard about several years ago that very much piqued my interest.  It was something that I had to investigate. 
  

  The rumor was that there is a particular Southwest Airlines flight that leaves Los Angeles International Airport (LAX) every Friday afternoon for Las Vegas. 
  

  Now, there are several flights that depart from Terminal 1 of LAX every Friday for Las Vegas, but the peculiar thing about this particular flight was that it was supposedly full of strippers. 
  

  Apparently, there are a lot of strippers who live in LA and work in Las Vegas on the weekend, and every Friday they all head to Las Vegas on the same Southwest Airlines flight. 

  I found this to be worth investigating.  So, as a public service, I decided to get to the bottom of it.
  

  So, on my last trip to Vegas (for a friend’s bachelor party) I booked a Friday afternoon flight on Southwest Airlines from LAX.  It was a 5:15pm flight, and I arrived at Terminal 1 at around 4:00.  As I stood in line at the security checkpoint I looked around and tried to spot some strippers.
  

  Shortly thereafter I realized that I didn’t really know what exactly it was that I was looking for.  What the hell was a stripper supposed to look like in real life (and by “real life”, I mean “outside of a strip club”)? 
  

  None of the women in line were wearing sexy lingerie, and they were all fully clothed.  And while there were a lot of beautiful women in line, I wasn’t sure if it was an unusually high number. 
  

  Hot women are pretty common in southern California; I can easily find at least five attractive ladies in less than three minutes of stepping out of my apartment building and onto the streets of downtown Burbank. 
  

  A lot of the women in line seemed to be traveling alone, so I guess it was possible that they were strippers going to Vegas for a weekend gig but it’s also possible that I was just trying to convince myself that I was going to be on a plane full of sexually-driven women. 

  This was going to be harder than I thought.

  *****
  

  I sat in the waiting area of the gate.  It was very crowded and I was sitting next to a girl who was wearing a pink Juicy Couture tracksuit.  She was young and attractive and she was chewing strawberry bubblegum.   
  

  She must have noticed me bobbing my head to the music in my iPod because she asked, “Whatcha got on your iPod?” 

  I was listening to Michelle Branch.  I was surprised that a potential stripper was talking to me, and I didn’t want to ruin any chance that she might sleep with me later on.  I said, “50 Cent.”  I have no redeeming qualities.  “What do you have on your iPod?” I countered.

  “Mostly classic rock.  Guns ‘N Roses.  Jane’s Addiction.  Stuff that makes you want to bang your head.”

  Conclusion:  Stripper.

  *****
  

  During take-off a woman sitting in front of me started to make small talk.  She was tall and little bit older than me, but she was amazingly attractive.  She asked me what I did for a living and if this was my first trip to Vegas. 
  

  She said that she made this trip often and that it’s part of her regular routine.  She said that if I “needed anything”, I should just “let her know,” and she winked at me while she said that, although, I don’t think she was flirting with me.

  Conclusion:  Stewardess.

  *****

  Southwest Airlines has general seating on its flights, so when I boarded the plane I tried to sit next to someone who had the potential to be a stripper.  And I did! 
  

  She looked to be in her early 20s.  She had very short brown hair that accentuated her heart-shaped face.  She was wearing a tight tank top and tight jeans that showed her curves very well.  She had a small tattoo of a heart on her left shoulder blade. 

  She was unbelievably cute, and after a while I couldn’t take it anymore.  I had to find out if she was a stripper, so I just blurted out, “What do you do for a living?”

  She paused for a half-second, but then she freely said, “I’m in film.”

  I was disappointed that she didn’t say, “I’m an exotic dancer,” or “I’m just working my way through college,” or something to that effect.  So I said, “Oh.  Taking a little break in Vegas I guess?”

  “No, I actually live in Vegas.  I work in LA during the week.”

  “Oh okay.  Have I seen you in anything?”

  “Probably not.  I pretty much just do small independent films.  Mostly out of the Valley.”

  Conclusion:  Porn star.

  *****

  Sitting two rows behind me was a tall and voluptuous Asian girl with obvious breast enhancements and platinum blonde hair.

  Conclusion:  Stripper.

  *****

  It’s only a 45-minute flight from LA to Las Vegas, but some passengers still managed to find time to go to the lavatory.  I stood in line with three people; I was in the middle.  The girl behind me was short, spunky, cute, and had the breasts of a Greek goddess.  But that wasn’t the remarkable thing about her. 
  

  What stood out about her was that she was astonishingly loud.  She was having a conversation with her friend (who was sitting down), but the conversation was heard throughout the cabin.  They were talking about a car dealership in Henderson, Nevada. 
  

  Her booming voice made me think of something my friend Pedro said to me when I was in professional school.  He said that loud girls had high sex drives because he had only had sex with loud girls and they were all “hot to trot”.  There’s probably no truth to his theory, but I was still reminded of it.

  Conclusion:  Not a stripper, but possibly really horny.

  *****

  When I got into the lavatory I was met with a peculiar scent.  It didn’t smell like feces or urine or perfume or aftershave.  It was a vague scent that I couldn’t quite identify. 
  

  While relieving myself it dawned on me what the scent was.  It was “stripper scent”, and anyone who’s been to a strip club would know what I’m talking about. 
  

  All strippers have a distinct odor (and this odor stays on you if you’ve ever received a lap dance).  I thought about the woman who used the bathroom right before me.  She was tall, skinny, and very conservative looking.  She didn’t look like a stripper, and I wasn’t too convinced about the stripper scent.  But then I saw traces of glitter on the bathroom counter…

  Conclusion:  Stripper.

  *****

  We arrived at McCarran airport in Las Vegas without incident.  I wasn’t convinced that I was on the mythical stripper flight.  There might have been a few strippers, but I suppose it’s possible I was just imagining things. 
  

  It wasn’t the party plane that I was looking forward to.  I wasn’t sure if I was on the wrong flight, or if the flight really even existed.  I decided to find out.

  When I got off the plane I approached a Southwest Airline ticketing agent at the gate.  He was about 35 years old and looked pretty bored.  I asked, “Which one is the flight full of strippers?”

  He laughed to himself and said, “They come in from Burbank, not LAX.”

  I’m not sure if he was kidding or not.  But I suppose that's an urban legend to investigate for another day.

  Have you ever heard of this urban legend?  Do you think it's possibly exists?

  
  

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