As we’re getting situated, the woman sitting next to me asks to trade seats. I am the aisle, she is the window. She has never flown before. Apparently five hours staring at the clouds isn’t appealing to her.

Her husband is sitting across the aisle from us and when I switch, he holds her hand through the whole flight — letting go long enough to let people pass. All in all, she does just fine.

I, however, have some issues. I’ve been seeing priests everywhere, all day long. Either there is a convention somewhere or I should be more worried about this flight.