Lighting your Shoes, on a TransAtlantic flight

Excuse me, do you have a match?

I’ll sit in my comfy seat
Which only makes me strain my knees

While I search for my lighter or flare
I notice the stewardess stopping to stare

Turned away from the plane once in Paris
They got me a room for the night at the palace
Trained for my plane time for a while in Karachi
It never rains or was damp but it sure was dusty

I never thought my shoes getting wet
Would damage my chances

Or cause me regrets