The New Leaf.

Brody sat down in his plane seat with a deep sigh, and and even deeper thirst on him. He was balding, chubby, a single middle-aged male, in his early fifties. He was divorced, and estranged from his young adult children after all his girlfriends and melodramas. That was no one's beeswax.

Next to him sat Mrs. Betsy Bland, an obese, senior and very garrulous woman, a real sticky beak. She quite liked that title, dispensing her pearls of wisdom whether her audience wanted them or not. She was also a God-fearing woman, and welcomed any chance to lead all souls to her God.

Once the plane had taken off in flight, Brody tried to order a drink from the busy air hostess, who was far away. He muttered, "Where is that air hostess?"

Mrs. Betsy Bland in the adjacent seat took this opportunity, "How are you today? I'm Betsy Bland. I'm so nervous. I don't really like flying, do you? Never mind, the flight staff will be along soon. I've brought a thermos, would you like some camomile tea? Doesn't matter if you don't, the gift is in the giving. Now, what's your name?" She had launched her speech, while pouring herself a cup of calming tea.

Brody sighed again, "Oh no, the passenger from hell. I think I'll read...' He opened his book. Mrs. Betsy Bland peeped at the book jacket, openly trying to read the blurb.

"I love books too, and magazines, reading the good old-fashioned way. I pray every day for poor people in the world who can't read. What are you reading? Look, I've got a bit pile of magazines, we can share. Something to take away the nerves." She accidentally elbowed Brody in his side, as she produced from her large bag a bundle of magazines.

Mrs. Betsy Bland could not do anything quietly, saying, "This'll take away my anxiety about bombs on board and terrorists. Look, the royal family, are you a monarchist? Doesn't matter if you are or not, I'm tolerant. They're only human. Such behaviours!

Brody groaned audibly, as his co-passenger turned the pages of her magazine, while slurping her tea noisily.

Mrs. Betsy Bland continued this commentary, "Look, a royal wedding. He looks like Prince Charming. Poor old me, I've been married three times. I guess I'm a a bit stiff. Are you married, love?"

Brody said, "Not any more...."

She continued, "Never mind. I never met Mr. Right. Always look on the bright side. My bloke I am with right now is at AA,, or he's supposed to be. Have you got a companion or are you all alone in the world?" She gazed at Brody expectantly.

Brody replied, "No, no companion, not any more. Maybe I could change my seat." Once more, he looked around for the air hostess.

Mrs. Betsy Bland was all aghast. "Oh, you don't want to do that. We're just getting to know each other. I hope I don't get air sick again. Do you vomit when you fly?"

Brody said with a weak grin, "I think I'm about to!"

Mrs. Betsy Bland nodded and told him, "Never mind." Turning another page of her magazine. "Ooh, he's just like my first husband. He was once my Prince Charming."

Brody glared at her, "Spare me the cliches!"

"What's a cliche dear, I am interested in your thoughts. Hell, he looked like Prince Charming, but I married Mr. Rotten Mongrel. He turned into Mr. Scumbag, he raised his fists to women, including his own mother and his wife. I divorced him."

Brody had been drawn into this monologue, a running commentary on male bloopers, "That's why my first wife divorced me."

Mrs. Betsy Bland fiddled for a bit with her hearing aid, "Didn't hear you, dear. You'll have to speak up, I'm a bit hard of hearing. Then, after that, I met Mr. Loverat. I never knew where he was, or what he was up to. He came home drunk, and reeking of other women. I got rid of him too. Still very stiff, never met a real Mr. Charming, someone to love and trust."

Brody could only reflect, "I was a cheating drunk too. A real loverat. Another miserable divorce." He sat staring at his book.

Mrs. Bland asked, "Are you talking to yourself or me? Didn't quite catch what you said.

Brody was fidgeting in his seat. Mrs. Brody was still going through her magazine, commenting,

"Look at her, a bride! Her husband looks like a man I did get mixed up with. Bad luck that. He was Mr. Liar, all right. He was a chronic gambler. I tried to get him to Gambler's Anonymous and AA. But he was no good. i dumped him too."

Brody stared at the ceiling of the plane, "I like gambling on the ponies and the pokies as well."

Mrs. Betsy Bland suggested, "Never too late to change, one battle at a time. The Lord is on your side, ready to welcome you to his band."

Then she kept smiling and preaching, "Tough luck some women have, isn't it! Do you think Mr.. Right exists?"

Brody shrugged, "Don't ask me...."

Mrs. Betsy Bland just went on and on, "You really have to speak up. Never mind, always look on the bright side, look forward in faith. I had a good talk to myself, and pulled myself together. I had to put those rats down to my bad experiences. I guess we all have water under the bridge. Look, here's an article about survivor baggage. What do you exes say about you?"

Brody managed a weak grin, "Nothing polite or repeatable from any of them." The passenger from heaven or hell grinned too, "Well, I heard that. Guess we are all only human. What did you say your name was again?" Then she nudged Brody with her elbow again,

"Look, this is exactly like my last old man. What a douchebag! A right Mr. Fox. So unreliable. I could never trust him. You know what I said to him, "If you can't wash or shop orcook or clean, back off. You'll end up in the gutter, a miserable solitary male with only skid marks to wear. Women are not your victims. So, I got rid of him too. Good riddance, that's what my sisters said. He was no use to any woman on Earth, sitting there all day, staring at a television. Expecting me to do everything. Yes, good riddance, better off without him."

Brody looked despondent. "I think that's what I am, a douchebag. That's why my exes left me."

Mrs. Betsy Bland could only say, "Didn't quite hear you. The Lord is on our side. I feel so much better for chatting with you. Good bye and good luck. Where are you going to next?"

Brody said, "Good luck to you to. You know what? I quit drinking for a couple of hours. I am going to turn over a new leaf, starting right now!"

Mrs. Betsy Bland did hear that, offering a silent prayer. "Thank you, Jesus. Peachy to be preachy!' She hi-fived the air hostess at the exit.