Well, not quite down under yet (as in southern hemisphere), but en route as I compose this post squished in the middle seat in the affordable cabin – aka economy – with a phantom farter in front of me, a Widget beside me and another fellow writer in the aisle seat*. And a pesky kicker behind. That'll be Blossom then. Between her and Mr Man I have been interrupted about a zillion times as they tell me incessantly what films they are watching and "would I like to see?"
No, I would not.
The phantom farter then. Ok, we have all been guilty of dropping the ubiquitous 'silent but deadly' ones at some stage of our lives in populated environments, but for goodness sake, will this person please go and relieve themselves before I risk the wrath of the cabin crew and light a match? Give me strength. I am on the verge of demanding they forcefully release the masks from above just to get some respite. It's been 6 hours now and no let up in sight smell. Excuse me a moment whilst I get out the safety card and waft away the fumes....
Anyway, on to more amusing items, ie other observations on the trip so far.
- Young girl at security with ring through her nose. The type that looks like you have a permanent bogey hanging from your nostril. One question: why? I could ramble on at length about the ugliness of certain piercings (in my book eyebrows, lips, tongues to name a few) but that would be a case of the pot calling the kettle black as I have a ring – albeit a very thin one from many years ago – through my own belly button. But why you would wish to imitate a bull going to market and always look like you have forgotten to wipe your nose properly is truly mystifying. Enlightenments welcome. (I may have to ask one of the Kevinettes who gave me the funniest rendition of a conversation with her young niece who was intent on piercing her tongue, but then desisted after some frank facts. Topic for another post but let's just say the discussion was around fellatio.)
- Lady at the gate complaining about the on-board meal before she was even on the plane, let alone being served with food. Not quite sure where she has been hiding out for the past week or so, but obviously the cabin crew strikes that have affected the carrier we are flying with to our destination seem to have passed her by. So when a member of staff (attempting to be helpful, I think) stands by the queue and starts yelling loudly that there are "no hot meals on this flight" and that passengers "may want to bring some food on board", said woman accosts the uniformed lady and starts a rant along the lines of "I was not told" and concludes "I will complain later". Sorry, how does that work? You are forewarned, you take what they give you, and then you complain later? Sounds a bit like being told the dress is the wrong size but you buy it anyway and then complain that it doesn't fit. Interesting logic, must try it some day.
- Woman sitting across the aisle from me is so large she can barely squeeze in to her seat. In fact when she tries to get up it is a case of assisted exit and gratuitous usage of leverage as the entire row is almost expelled at the same time. Oh yes, and she also needs an extension on the seat belt, you know, the orange bit usually reserved for babies on laps. Am I being cruel and unsympathetic? Possibly but quite frankly I am not interested in being politically correct. I have already seen her food consumption and believe me when I say this has nothing to do with genes. Am just grateful she is not overflowing in the seat next to mine.
Enough for the moment. Combined headache from the pressurised cabin, writer man to my left being deaf (cue his airplane headphone volume being so loud I can hear what he is watching without even looking at his screen) and the visual display showing that we are about to cross the equator is proving lethal concoction. Or maybe it was the effort of watching 'A Single Man' (need a big screen to appreciate better) followed by 'The Blind Side' (rubbish feel-good Americana same ol', same ol') that has done me in.
Or the phantom farter. Oh for heaven's sake, there they go again. Excuse me while I find that box of matches.
*Amusingly I did peek at what he was writing – as you do – and note that it entailed a very, nay highly, unlikely screen/stage play involving a heavily pregnant woman who is being dictated to by her obstetrician without being able to get a word in edgeways about her condition. Supposedly 40 weeks gone and unable to say more than "But perhaps..." to his ramblings. Am very tempted to put him right and state that she would be far more likely to say "Get this f*cker out of me or I will cause mayhem," but that may not go down very well and we still have half the trip to go. Never mind.