Had I been one for superstition and signs then I certainly would have paid more attention to the few accidents I had just trying to get to Bangkok. Who would have thought that it was possible to not see a plane door, let alone walk into it, whilst ajar? And who would have known that it was possible to set off the Passenger Alarm in the toilet (conveniently positioned at the point where your elbow would nudge it whilst reaching for toilet paper) causing the air cabin crew to assemble themselves for a potential toilet-related-emergency? In my shock and fear of having the toilet door dropkicked open by Helga whilst I sat unaware on the toilet having an innocent wee ( I am sure you can understand that the fear is exascerbated as the toilet door is positioned in a way which means the entire rear end of the plane can see straight in when it is open), I returned to my seat only to inadvertently head butt the in flight seat entertainment system.
As I mentioned earlier, I am not one for superstition, it is simply not plausible for a person as uncoordinated as myself, to read into every one of my regular accidents. I believe I can account for all of my misadventures being a result of the relief of having effectively packed my bags ( I say “effectively” but when I arrived into Bangkok with no appropriate clothing I began to think otherwise), woken myself up (with only a little help from a wake up call from Anna) and got to the airport (thanks Anna’s dad) with my passport and money in tow (not the way I returned to London) and checked in, all in good time for a Vanilla Latte and the chance to whizz through the confectionary section in WHSmiths. It is with little surprise that it would all start going Pete Tong in no time.
Having missed a flight last Summer from Italy to London by a mere twenty four hours, I still enjoy the novelty every time I do not miss a flight. It took approximately a month before I could look at my bank balance again and to crack some obligatory self-deprecating jokes about my inability to know the days of the week. I can laugh know at the knowledge that at the exact time that I should have been getting up for a flight to London, I was fast asleep, and that whilst I should have been onboard an ever-so-pleasant Ryanair flight I was meandering through a market with all the time in the world. Only C.C.T.V can truly capture my devastation as I gathered the information in my head that I had completely and utterly missed my flight. Trust me when I say that I tried to kick myself firmly in the derriere on my way over to “Ticket Information”, with the contents of my bowels following closely behind. I do normally try to censor my language, which is not always easy with an Irish mother with a colourful vocabulary and a Swiss father who has taught you all the Germanic swear words and expletives you could ever need.However, as I was told that the price of a new ticket was over four times more than my original return flight I could not contain the torrent of swear words in every language that flew from my mouth at that moment.
To say Michael O’Leary “spanked me with my pants down” would be a mild understatement.
So anyway, back to Qatar Airlines flight QR613, by now I hope you are beginning to grasp how unfortunate I am when it comes to transport and that walking into a plane door is simply one-of-those-things that do not phase me anymore. I once was on a 326 bus to High Barnet and as the doors opened I merely forgot to walk and fell flat on my face onto the floor outside. In my shock of falling out of a bus I thought that the best plan of action would be to stay put until the bus (full of shoppers I should add) had pulled away. Instead remaining motionless on the floor only causes more drama as the bus driver gets off the bus with no less than five passengers to check whether I was alive at all. I tried yelling “Yeaaah I’m fine, just having a nap”, but the bus driver was not convinced, and he was trying to persuade me that I should go to the hospital. Why exactly, I would have needed to go to hospital, I’m not so sure. There is little that can be done for individuals suffering from chronic embarrassment and terminal inability to operate normally on various modes of transport.
So this is why I cannot afford to read to deeply into the accidents( I only too frequently have) on public transport, otherwise I really would remain in simply one location for my entire life. High Barnet is already overpopulated with the mentally deranged without me adding to its numbers.
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