We’ve been flying cheap(er) recently, so it was a bit of a shock to return to one of the ‘real’ airlines last week. Quite nice to be addressed as Mrs G. Means someone can read the boarding card.
I sort of enjoyed the free snacks on the first plane and the free sandwich on the second. As the second plane approached Kastrup – with that lovely view of half a Bridge, but hopefully without dead bodies on it – the steward walked down the aisle doing his sales patter. I was only half paying attention. Heard ‘aftershave.’ Fairly normal. Then he said ‘washing machines’ and followed that quickly with ‘tumble driers.’
He must have known we were neither listening, nor terribly interested. I was tempted to get one of the tumble driers. Though it might have turned out to be something totally normal and taxfree, as well as an embarrassment to carry off the plane.
And then it was the Resident IT Consultant’s turn to fly. As he changed planes at Heathrow I needed to inform him of what Mr Vet had said. Called his mobile, which miraculously was on. It was even answered, although that was more ‘by pocket’ than by himself.
So if you heard any odd noises, I’m afraid that was me, screaming down the phone. I could hear all of Heathrow, but it would seem Heathrow couldn’t hear me.
I know. I felt like one of those stupid people you get in sitcoms.