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(I just found this on my laptop from last time I was on a long flight.)
Just before take-off, the guy across the aisle starts to read his paper. Every time he turns the page, he snaps the paper to straighten it out. It's a really loud snap, and for some reason it's incredibly annoying, but hey - how long can it take to read a paper?
Somewhere over the Caspian Sea I realise it's been six hours, in which time he's managed to produce two additional papers from his bag.
By the time we're near Kiev, I nearly lose my temper and engage in fisticuffs, or at least beat him around the head with my meal tray. To pretend I'm not a coward I mutter something about discretion and valour, and content myself with passive aggressive thoughts about his blood pressure and early death.
Over Warsaw, as the small child in the row in front and I make faces at each other, his pen leaks all over the crossword. Victory.
One comment
Chesna :: Saturday, August 22nd
Heehee. How very nick earls of you :P
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