So I'm on the plane at last. Squeezed into the narrowest seats possible with our legs pinned in positions that would cause palpatations in the makers of certain types of specialist film.
Something foul is in the air.
"Great" I think "I've got the Stinky Man". The guy next to me could certainly use a shower, or is just a very nervous flier. It can't be a lot of fun for him either - I have broad shoulders (at least, so it seems in these seats) and even when hunched forward like a 21st century Quasimodo, I've managed to invade his personal space on at least two occasions.
But Stinky Man has a surprise up his sleeve.
British Airways always serve food and drink. Even on a flight as short as this. The stewardess stops at our row with a screech of brakes and breathlessly asks: "What would you like to eat sir?"
He: "Do you have a vegetarian option?"
She: "Certainly. We have cheese and pickle sandwiches. Will that be ok?"
He: "It will have to."
Me: "I'll have one of those too, please!" (I had a chicken sandwich on the way out, and shortly after spent some quality time in the bathroom feeling like I was about to pass my pelvis)
She: (to me) "And what can I get you to drink, sir?"
Me: "A beer would be lovely, thank you"
He: (looking at me with barely concealed contempt) "Water. Still water. No ice."
Me: (waggling the can of beer - a bit tipsy from the airport) "Hey, its free you know"
He: "Alcohol clouds the senses and diverts man from the path of righteousness. Consuming it corrupts the sanctity of our bodies"
I kid you not. My last bits of religious education were Confirmation classes with Father Jimmy. Father Jimmy's idea of religious teaching basically involved saying: "Ah to feck with this. Lets go bowling." Yeah, we all liked him. I don't think he and Stinky Man would have got on.
So, I'm nervously sipping my beer. Waiting for the lightning bolt. In deference to Stinky Man I've poured my beer into the plastic cup rather than my usual chugging it out of the beercan. Its at this point the stewardess rushes back up the plane to start litter collection. I didn't notice it before, but she's a well built woman. A little too hourglass shaped to work in such a narrow cabin, maybe.
Remember what I said about the broad shoulders?
An attractive left buttock, moving at speed, connects with my right shoulder and the beer goes flying.
Stinky Man retains a dignified silence, even as a rivulet of beer runs through his beard. The stewardess and I are mortified, offering sympathy and paper towels.
But the woman sitting on his left, who I assumed was his wife, is about to have a seizure with laughter.
And this, friends, is why next time, I will travel business class.
