I sat in seat 23F next to the window, took out my leftover dinner from my backpack, and furiously started eating. A few minutes later, a man wearing an Astros baseball cap sat next to me with a puzzled look.
“You sure look hungry.”
“I am, can’t beat fried noodles with chicken. My name’s T.J. Pleasure to meet you.”
“My name’s Mike, Mike Jordan.”
“Are you related to the Michael Jordan?”
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