A middle-aged man and woman in Western clothes were climbing the steps, checking row numbers, and stopped at H.
"Excuse us, please, miss, we have the next two seats in there," smiled the man, tipping his hat.
The girl stepped out into the aisle to let them enter.
"Howdy," said Monty, nodding, although he didn't know the couple, standing up to let them past.
They all sat down. The new arrivals started chatting with each other, while Monty and his seatmate sat self-consciously studying their programs, each wondering silently if they should introduce themselves. Monty uncrossed his feet, and in the cramped space, the pointed toe of his cowboy boot scraped across the back of the seat in front of him. It was evident that Monty wasn't with the new couple, and the girl was almost obliged to take the conversational opening offered.
"Would you like to take the aisle seat, where you have more legroom?" she asked.
"Why, sure, if you don't mind," Monty answered, trying to stay unflustered as he turned and looked into big hazel eyes.
She stepped out into the aisle again, and Monty looked down, concentrated on keeping his feet from tangling as he, too, moved out into the aisle and up a step. He allowed himself another quick look from behind as she moved back in to his former seat, then he sat down in the aisle seat.
"Thanks, that's a lot better. I really appreciate it. My name's Monty," he said, stretching his right hand across to shake hands.
"You're welcome, and I'm Laura," she replied, taking his hand as they shook hands rather quickly, two complete strangers sharing a sudden physical intimacy dictated by convention.
"Pleased to meet you," said Monty, automatically tipping the brim of his hat.
Involuntarily, Laura laughed, a chuckle which blended surprise and pleasure, followed by a tinge of embarrassment.
"I'm sorry," she apologized. "I've never before in my life had a man tip his hat to me, and now it's just happened twice in two minutes.".
"Don't men do that where you come from?"
"I come from Montreal, and men there don't even wear hats. I've never seen this many hats in my life," said Laura, as her gaze took in the sea of hats in the crowd, most men and many women wearing the traditional cowboy hat in white, black, or brown felt, with a few in the lighter summer straw.
"So you're an Easterner?" questioned Monty.
"Well, I never thought of myself that way until now, but it sure looks like I'm in the West now. I never expected to find something like this in San Francisco".