How she managed to leave the empty cell of that room was an unsolved mystery to her, even a year later. An even greater enigma to the pale figure of the blonde stewardess, thin and visibly ailing from the shock of her loss, was how she returned to her routine of `thank you for flying with us' `here is your coat, sir', and the endless stream of meaningless innuendoes that cramp the life of an airline stewardess.

Trudy, a true swinger who used to laugh and giggle incessantly at the lewd behavior of the drunken first class passengers as they slithered their hungry fingers up her tapered legs to the top of her slim thighs, convinced her to get out of the four walls of their shared Boston apartment and start acting like the young and beautiful woman she truly was.

Reluctantly, Ann followed her roommate to singles bars, where they would sit conspicuously alone sharing bottles of fine French wines and packs of femininely slim cigarettes, ogling the steady line of blurry-eyed drunken males stumbling as they sought the acquaintance of the two lovely women. But it was a bore, and Ann returned to her library of Hesse and Jung, seeking an inner truth that she was convinced lay hidden in the wisdom of their words. But words couldn't fill her vacuum of dead love and Ann searched the extreme for something to plug up that hole of loneliness that ate away at her heart like a growing seed of destitution.

Trudy, her savior during this most horrid of times, took her recalcitrant roommate along to parties, sailing in the Boston Harbor, even for drives to up-state New York in hopes of bringing her back to life. Finally, even Ann could not tolerate her apathy for life and forcing her self into submission, began accompanying her brown-haired, brown-eyed friend to parties, risquй parties. There is no one more jet-set in their mentality than those who work for airlines, and Ann was soon to find this truth for herself.