The woman sitting next to me on the plane looked vampiric and was reading a VC Andrews novel. I was already seated in the middle seat when she boarded the plane, but she didn't give me a chance to move out before trying to climb over me. She was weird. So it freaked me out a bit when, halfway through the short flight, when she leaned over and asked me what I was reading on my kindle. She had a strange look on her face. It was obvious she'd been reading over my shoulder, although for how long I was not sure.

"Uh, The Outside World," I told her. I was pretty sure that she was not reading novels about Jews seeking more meaning in their religious practices, and wasn't sure where she was going with this.

"Oh." She seemed disappointed. "I thought it was something else."

"The Marrying of Chani Kaufman?" I asked. Maybe she did like reading books about ultra-Orthodox Jews.

"Yes, that's it. I read that. I thought this might be that book."

I was confused. If she read the book, did it not strike her that none of the characters have the same names or live in the same setting?

She leaned toward me. "Do you live in New York?"


"How come you're traveling?"

"I'm going to a conference," I said. I really did not want to talk to her. I picked up my Kindle again.

"Oh, you work? Do you like working?"


Then she asked me where I live in New York. By this point, we were landing. I was increasingly nervous that she was going to follow me off the plane, onto the subway platform, and shove me onto the tracks as a train pulled into the station. Fortunately, the women on the other side of me decided to tell me all about her trip to Cancun with her husband. Vampir-O shrunk back. I can't say for sure if she was hissing, but I swear she might have been.

I should not travel for work.