You’re on a long flight, and a palm reader sitting next to you insist she reads your palm. You hesitate but, agree. What does she tell you?
I cannot imagine a female passenger sitting next to me on a long flight asking to read my palm.
Hesitation is an understatement, and I would not agree.
Now, I could imagine a passenger who had too many drinks wanting me to read their palm when the plane hits some rough turbulence.
I would take on the persona of a heavy accented Eastern European palm reader tracing my finger along the lines of their palm. After a minute or more I, would stop in dramatic fashion. Slowly look up from the palm of their hand, with my eyes open wide to stare into their eyes and slowly, state.
The lines in your palm reveal your life is in the palm of the airline pilots.
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