So keen was Monkeymother to get me out of the country, she drove me to the airport. As MM is efficient and I am not, I was jolly early. There were ten empty check-in desks! This was a veritable miracle, particularly as I am used mainly to the evil work of RyanSatan. I chose the third.
Suitcase was too heavy, of course. 6 kilos too heavy, mainly because it is full of fudge, tea in tin boxes with pictures of the Queen on and teddy bears dressed up as Beefeaters. Excess charge! But worth it, for the person I am visiting I am sure will enjoy the array of british goods I have acquired (Pot Noodles, a Double Decker, 3 Sherbert Dib-Dabs, a four-pack of John Smith's Bitter and a Dundee Fruit Cake).
The checkout lady was splendid. I said, "Is it wrong to be excited?", and she said, "No! Why would it be wrong? If you lose the ability to be excited you might as well give up." We talked for a long time. She wasn't very busy, and I was very early. I told her that I was visiting someone who I'd only met once; she agreed with Monkeymother that it was the right thing to do, because if I didn't do it, I'd forever ask "What if?".
She didn't make me pay for my extra Shortbread kilos (in fact, she tore up the slip extravagantly in front of me and tossed the bits over her shoulder); she tried to upgrade me but couldn't; she slapped 'Priority' sticker on so I could zoom through at the other end like a ferret up a drainpipe. I am to get her a note via the crew on the return flight with my name and phone number so that, in the unlikely event that I am allowed back to Montreal, she will get me a free ticket.
She waved me off, the lovely Irish check-in lady with her blonde bob and lovely smiley face, and blew me a kiss, all of which made my eyes water a bit.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
YOU MAY ALSO LIKE
8 comments:
one double decker? you mean bugger.
have a safe trip and a luvverly moose huntin' time.
You were lucky! We got charged full whack by Ryanair for our six excess kilos on the way back from Marrakech, and what a whack it was - 9 euros per kilo. Bastards!
I don't think it was luck.
I think it was the natural NWM disarming charm in full flow.
('eywfteek' ????)
Sherbert Dip-Dabs, eh?
My three siblings and I used to pair off and argue over which were better, Sherbert Dip-Dabs or Lemonade Dippers. We even had a song
"We all agree
Dippers are better than Dip-Dabs"
(or vice versa)
Personally, I was a Dip-Dab supporter.
My family are a bit strange, I think.
sherbert fountains trounce all competition though.
There is always reason behind my apparently unreasonable actions:
1. I knew NWM would be overweight (her bags, anyway), as she would take all the above plus 1Kg jar of Marmite and 100 books to read in 10 days.
2. I know, from personal experience, that if you get to the airport early with a big suitcase and 4 directors chairs tied up with string and have a good-natured chat with the person at check-in, you have a good chance of getting away with it.
3. The M4 can mysteriously jam-up whenever I try to get to Heathrow.
4. NWM looked very nice as she left, so had a good chance of getting upgraded if: a. she arrived early and b. was her natural charming self - shame it didnt' work this time.
That's my lesson for today children.
oops, what happened to my apostrophes? I didn't marry a greengrocer to have his banana's
I have to say that the only reason the nice stuff happened is that the lady was REALLY NICE and I was PROPERLY excited and squeaky, like a child. Also MM had been Soothing and Supportive so was not in any way wild-eyed.
Bath Olivers have gone down well; oatcakes rejected in favour of Bath Olivers. To be tried: Marmite.
Post a Comment