On a transatlantic flight, a plane passes through a severe storm. The turbulence is aweful, and things go from bad to worse when one wing is struck by lightning.
The passengers were scared, but one woman, in particular, loses it.
Screaming, she stands up in the front of the plane. "I'm too young to die," she wails.
Then she looks around in a panic and yells, "If I'm going to die, I want my last minutes on earth to be to be memorable! Is there anyone on this plane who can make me feel like a WOMAN?"
For a moment there is silence, everyone forgetting their own peril.
They all stare, eyes riveted, at this desperate young woman in the front of the plane.
Then, this very good-looking Southern Gentleman from Georgia (probably named John) stands up in the rear of the plane.
He is handsome, well built, with dark brown hair and hazel eyes (much like John). He starts slowly walking up the aisle unbuttoning his shirt one button at a time with each step.
No one moves as he removes his shirt...muscles rippling acorss his chest (okay, it's not me.)
The lady in front gasps.
He slowly walks up to her, so close their bodies are almost touching.
He leans over and whispers in her ear,
"Iron this shirt and get me a beer." Then pops her on the ass and sits down in her seat.
Ya know? I could very well have been me. I like fresh ironed shirts and cold beer.
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