There I am, at Heartrow having my vanilla latte with an extra shot to wake me up. National express should start installing bunk beds, my neck hasn’t fully recovered yet.
It all looks very fancy and save over here, lots and lots of staff that have a sixed sense for travellers in distress. But is this a fake sense of security?
Last time when I flew I took my own lunch, made lovely sausage and mash the night before. Was a feast with 3 different kinds of mash with butternut squash, sweet potato, red onion, carrot, swede and ‘normal’ potato. You mach up which ones I put together. Anyway, enough bragging. The point is that I took it with me and before I left the house slipped a fork in my bag. Was looking forward to my lunch on 40000 feet. Security didn’t let me. How was I supposed to eat my lunch now??? Andrew told me that it was for the best because what if a terrorist felt a bit peckish, spotted my lunch and felt inspired to kill everybody on the plane by attacking them with my fork. ‘Blood and guts everywhere, you would want that to happen.’
No comments:
Post a Comment