Near-death experience

Just a minute or two ago I heard Mrs Blog shout the following

"Bu66er off!"

"Bu66er off or I will kill you!"

"Just bu66er off!!"

She raised her voice and added

"That is it you are going to die!!!"

Given that only myself and Mrs Blog are in the house this evening I was more than a little concerned. Then I remembered that I am three stone heavier, five inches taller and fitter than Mrs Blog. I plucked up the courage to peer into the kitchen (which Mrs Blog loves) and saw her trying to swat a fly.

Phew!

The Muffin Man

Armed with my brand new roller-bag measuring 50 cm by 40 cm by 20 cm in keeping with the new size regulations directive from EasyJet, I was waiting in line for the 18.05 Gatwick to Edinburgh yesterday.An older gentleman was sitting on the row of seats usually occupied by "special assistance" passengers which made me assume he might well be "special", except that "special assistance" passengers are invariably accompanied by a member of staff.

Several minutes after spotting the special man, he wandered off leaving his bag behind. The security alert that should have ensued was averted by the two other people on the "special" seats (who again weren't special) who reassured Malcolm from Easyjet that the guy would be back.

After several minutes the "special" man returned and went to the desk to ask if they had seen his bag. They steered him back to his "special" seat and showed him where it was. Two minutes later he wandered off again. This time the quick-thinking Malcolm set off in hot pursuit. Escape denied to him for a second time, the "special" man sat back down again.

When, after a thirty minute delay, Stelios let his people let us on the aeroplane, I moved forward. There were no "specials" so the special man had to go to the back of the queue. I felt annoyed with myself for the gleeful way that made me feel.

I found my seat after the speedy boarders had got out of the way. Why do they call them "Speedy Boarders" when they are so bloody slow? 15 A - by the window.

After ten minutes or so the rest of the passengers had found their way past the speedy boarders, all except for the special man. He was complaining that EasyJet should number their seats so that he could find his. The steward, pointed him to his seat, right next to mine. I shrank into my seat and moved my book closer to my head to avoid any eye contact.

Special man sat down and immediately leaned over invading my space and said

"Reading a book? Good idea!"

"No!!" I screamed in my head.

Special man then sat himself diagonally in his seat with his left shoulder angled right in front of me. His elbow turned out to be quite bony too. I simply tried to make myself as small as I could.

Twenty minutes into the air special man decided to have a blueberry muffin. The muffin must have been sat somewhere hot all day because when he opened it I nearly choked on the blueberry gas that steamed off it.

Finally we landed at Edinburgh and special man laughed to me and asked

"Why do they all jump up they won't get off any quicker?" as he remained sitting until nearly everyone else was off the plane. He grabbed his bag - with a large address label on it, I memorised his name and address and started plotting a murder.

Thinking differently

I saw this posted on linked in and loved it - hope you do too!

Graduates

Yesterday daughter-blog graduated from Aberdeen university with an MA Hons far exceeding the qualifications of Mr Blog who has a Cycling Proficiency Badge and a 20m Swimming Certificate.

Whilst drinking Pimms on the lawn afterwards it began to rain. One new graduate decided to shelter herself by holding her mortar board on her head. Sadly, she managed to hold it upside down! In doing so she managed to reverse the value of a piece of headgear by turning it from a shelter from the rain to a means of collecting rainwater.

It makes you wonder if they should introduce a ceremony for removing awards of degrees where the culprit is deemed to have been too thick for their degree after all!?

Inconvenience

In an earlier post I described the horror of taking the  sleeper (5/9/2012) perhaps more appropriately called the "waker" from Edinburgh to London. That experience should have put me off for good but...I could find no other way to get to London on a Monday morning for a 10.00 meeting in Potters Bar.

The journey down was actually fine. I returned the same day on the 14.00 from Kings Cross, home of the walking-texter. These people walk through a crowded station (or airport, street, any crowded place) head down looking at the screen of their mobile phones while walking along ignoring the the high odds that they will bump into someone. This means those of us who walk without texting have to avoid them!

On the train I found a seat, one of the few unreserved seats,which was opposite the door to the toilet. No ordinary toilet, the makers of trains have decided passengers should play Toilet-Russian-Roulette. This toilet has a button to open the door, the door slides back in a Star Trek fashion while making a noise just like the doors on the USS Enterprise. Once inside you have to push the "close" button and then the "lock" button (assuming that you want some privacy whilst in there).

For three hours I watched nervous passengers overcome their fears and make use of the facilities, all without a hitch except for the occasional person who could not read the "engaged" sign when it was lit up.

My turn came. Reassured by the steady stream of passengers successfully operating the door and lock mechanism, I ventured forth. I pushed the "open" button; it worked. I pushed the "close" button; it worked. I pushed the "lock" button; I thought it had worked. Rather inconveniently I was interrupted by a large grey-haired gentleman who had managed to override the "lock" mechanism.

Now in hiding, I await a knock in the door from Scotland's finest constables ready to cart me away for indecent exposure.