I went to see Kate The Physio last night. Twice a week I go, and twice a week she makes encouraging noises. Because I can't drive at the moment, I'm subject to the vageries of public transport and seeing the physio involves a train to the airport and then a short taxi ride.
And after what I did last night, I'm a bit concerned I'm turning into a bit of a bastard.
Let me explain.
There was a crowd of people hanging around the taxi-booking booth. Beyond it I could see that the taxi to passenger ratio was not in my favour, and a long wait in the cold was in prospect.
It was then that I saw salvation. A small item of hand luggage was resting against the wall. There was no obvious owner. I waited until an airport security guard appeared in the doorway to the taxi rank and sidled over to him.
I pointed out the unattended luggage and watched as the anti-terrorism machine swung into action. Within seconds, the immediate area (the taxi queue in front of the yellow vested guard) was cleared. Except for me. You see, I'd been standing next to the guard, and so took a swift step backwards and into a waiting taxi.
So, the question - do I commend myself for doing a public service, or do I condemn myself for some highly devious and positively un-English queue jumping?
Answers on a postcard to the usual place.
