Ok, so the airport is chaos. I've hidden myself behind an electrical store and am impressing my boss by firing off emails like an incontinent hippo on a helter-skelter.
I don't mind the fact that every flight is delayed.
I don't mind the bored, screeching children.
I can even live with the guy sitting opposite me picking his nose and flicking the result at the window.
No, what I have a problem with is that due to the volume of people standing about in the terminal, the bars are rationing beer.
Harsh. Very harsh.
