Massive shout to the guy on the plane from Bangkok who clocked us storming the aisles for empty rows on a militant seek and recline mission.
Despite tactical pivots forced by late boarders, my overexcited volume levels blowing any hope of stealth, and Safia going kamikaze with a meal redirect request that was tantamount to a confession – it was looking like an unmitigated triumph.
Beaming at full wattage and giving theatrical thanks to the gods – suddenly this chunky bearded fella appears beside me with body language screaming ‘Can I get by’ and mouthing the fatal words ‘Excuse me – I’m in 48 B’
As 13 hours of horizontal glory dissolved into the awkwardly shared armrest of defeat, he suddenly burst out laughing – goes ‘Only joking mate’ and dives into a seat a couple of rows back. ‘You just looked so happy’ he says – ‘I couldn’t resist’.
Sir – I salute you. That was some properly high end banter for a total stranger. And the poor fucker had someone next to him for the whole 13 hour flight. While others might have seethed acidly at such a noisy, smug twat kipping in regal style – this tattooed saint turned it into the best laugh I’ve ever had on a plane.
And to the elderly gentleman who saw me swipe a sleeping Saf’s leftover bread roll – I was genuinely impressed at how your glacial look of contempt managed to freeze even further when I explained she was my mate.
I guess the lesson is – when you’re trapped in a small space for hours with someone really fucking annoying (me) – those who conjure up the comedy will get through it a hell of a lot better than those who find some weird sense of self worth in disapproval.
I hope we meet again mate – legend
Cyrus Bozorgmehr 