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78 The Blog Father more from Fitz this month ........... I


know the length of day on Mercury, Saturn and even Venus but does anyone know the how long an hour is looking for a curtain rail in Dunelm?


Anyway, recently we needed to travel to a European destination and decided, as funds are always limited, to fly by cattle class on a ‘pile it high, sell it cheap’ airline. It was a wonderful experience and I do truly mean that as we had ignored all of the website add on’s and duly arrived at the airport to be crammed into the waiting room. As we shuffled forwards, I was told off by the enemy, the good lady wife, for bleating like a sheep in the hopes that my crowd would join in….a little observational humour stomped on there! To one side was the golden pathway for the chosen ones. The roped off aisle for those who had selected preferential boarding and had paid for it. They sauntered past the huddled masses knowing that they were not going to be sat by the rear gunner. They waved us out of the way and then out towards the


plane. By the time I got there, having not booked a seat beside the enemy, I had the 13a and the company of a thin looking depressive who didn’t speak English. After the usual scrum of trying to ram bags into the overhead locker, human chess then broke out. Bargaining between total strangers reached fever pitch…. Cries of ‘Can I swap with you, that’s my husband you’re sat beside….my daughter can move back one, the lady you are with is my aunt…can we sit beside her if she needs her flatulence pills.’


In five minutes I witnessed more negotiations than Brexit! After fifteen or so swaps I found myself by a lovely lady, four rows in front of my original position…..namely my wife.


On the flight back, most of the same actions took place but with the added joy of travelling by bus to the plane. The smug elite, who had paid for the golden pathway, got on the bus first, with us huddled masses waiting till last. But, by being last on the bus meant first off! My door opened and I was off, like a corpulent greyhound. Without even breaking into a trot, I simply wandered up the steps and onto an un-crowded plane! After five minutes of human kerplunk, the dust settled and a voice behind me said….’Do you want to join me?’ My wife had swapped with fork life truck driver from Bristol who in turn had given up his seat to a lady who wanted a window having been forced out of her seat by a screaming child with a runny nose. I joined her in the extra wide ‘over the wing’ seats which we would not pay extra for and enjoyed the trip home while the elite sat there glaring at us.


Tally ho, Fitz Read more from Fitz by


visiting :www.tfbcommunications.co.uk You can also listen in to his show on Radio Devon weekdays 10pm-1pm Sun 3pm-5pm


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