I was the only person in the business section flight on the AirFrance flight to Edinburgh. Before you think this sounds like a brilliant boast, worthy of Annabelle herself, let me assure you it was just a bit weird. There were only about six seats in business class, divided from the "plebs" by a little curtain.
I had my own (French) air steward. We stared awkwardly at each other for most of the flight. Well, actually, I tried to read my novel, but every time I looked up, he was looking awkwardly at me. Sometimes he winked.
Owing to the useless curtain, I had the whole "safety demonstration" performance entirely to myself in my section of the plane. Normally I ignore the safety demonstration. Despite being something of a nervous flier, I do tend to think that a bit of a padded jacket and a whistle are somewhat unlikely to save you from a fireball, toxic fumes or large mountain. Call me sceptical. So I normally try and switch off from that brilliant phrase, "In the unlikely event of an emergency". I love the fact they put the word "unlikely" in. As if they just said, "In the event of an emergency", people might run screaming from the plane. "They haven't said the emergency is unlikely! I can't cope!" It reminds me of the lifts in Hong Kong that say, "When there is a fire, do not use lifts." Not "If there is a fire", but "when". I like their definitiveness. Definitivy. Definitivinessly. You know what I mean.
Anyway, because this chap was doing his performance especially for me, I felt I ought to watch. He loved it. He winked at me every other sentence. He mimed "fasten, adjust and tighten the seatbelt" with more vigour than I've ever previously seen. I almost felt I should clap by the time he got to "Your lifejacket is under your seat."
Subsequent to the performance, he offered me a drink about every two seconds. It was all going brilliantly. Until the fatal moment. "Voulez-vous... excuze-moi... Would you like a drink... madame?"
Ruined. Ruined, ruined, ruined. The fucker called me "madame". I have always been "mademoiselle". It's official. I'm old.
2 comments:
Yep. That's what happens when you're nearly 30.
Nice Kate x
For readers of the Plog, Nice Kate will henceforth be known as Bitchface.
;o)
L x
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