It’s Friday somewhere in Europe. You’re at the end of your train or bus or taxi journey through traffic and masses of sweaty foreigners speaking in unrecognisable languages and with acute garlic breaths. You made it to the airport despite the overrun of your last meeting and the unsympathetic looks from your colleagues as you grabbed your bags and rushed for the door. You’ve made it through passport control and security took your water and toothpaste but now you’re on the short finals with a clear run to the gate. There is a travellator to assist you but you did not factor into your planning the fact that some zombies think this moving walkway is a place for them to rest while people overtake them walking next to the travellator. Do they think this device was put there to ensure you are late for your flight?
And what about the zombies whose eyes are glued to the facebook page on their iPhone while sleep walking in front of you. They are the ones that stop at the top of the escalator to look up and see where the hell they ended up and with no regard for the people piling up behind them. Why can’t they cross a busy hi-way instead of crossing my way towards the gate?
Don’t mention the zombies who momentarily wakeup and then stop right in front of you without warning. Normally a heavyweight sample that simply acts like a crash barrier for you and then looks at you as if you’re at fault. They are like the zombies at the hotel breakfast buffet hanging around the food trying to decide what more to eat while you know exactly what you want if only they will move their fat bums so you can get to it.
And what’s with this coffee thing. Every one walks with some Starbokkie or Costaplenty coffee container like it is a status symbol. Granted it is better than when cigarettes were fashionable and allowed but is it not the same addition?
When you get to the gate you grab a free copy of the Business Day just to pretend you understand that kind of stuff. The closest you get to the global economy is the seat with the same name. Luckily the paper is too big to read in the economic economy space of your small seat. Why do you have to hear how to fasten your seatbelt again through a sound system that hurts your ears? Who cares about the brace position except small children? There is no way you can bend forward enough without dislocating your head from your neck. Perhaps they do that on purpose so you are already dead by the time they crash.
Where do they get the wine they serve? It must be free for you would never buy it but it does contain alcohol and that is what you need to survive in this minute space. Can they not do something about the smell of hot food coming from business class? It really makes the peanuts taste like rubber. Luckily you can’t afford an iPad cause then you would have been forced to use it and watch whatever they watch. Surely that is a bad idea. You can use it before and after takeoff en then have to put it away while you swallow your dreadful wine. Once the passenger in front reclines their seat you are really trapped. If you have not finished your wine by then you will have to wait for breakfast or the landing gear and the seat-upright instructions through the loud PA system.
You just cannot wait to get back home standing in a long immigration line where the heavy (un)friendly immigration officer throws your passport back at you in disgust because you came back. The customs sharks sniff through your luggage and want you to pay import duty on the Old Spice you got last Christmas. Not to mention the surprise in the car park where the only traces of your car is a few drops of oil from the leaking sump. While you continue to pay for the parking of your missing car the friendly local people relieve you of the rest of your luggage. You now know why Guptas fly via Waterkloof.
How I hate flying!