Flying on emirates is kind of cool, although because it's as cheap as chips in brighton south london, one gets the sense one's just another quarter chicken on the griller waiting to be basted. entertainment is buxom though and although its difficult to watch the tv when your knees are plugging up the holes of your nostrils and the fat bastard from Karachi in front of you decides its time to have a nap during dinner time, the service and the servers are deeligthful.
Emirates definitely is concerned about the face it portrays to the public, and that 'face' has super model status.
gone are the days when you're flying SAA, you shift uncomfortably in your aisle seat, blushing, while the air-hostess whispers, talks or rather offers you a coolie and tosses you a bag of salty nuts, she locks her eyes upon yours, your bottom lip begins to tremble, and the drool, it begins gushing from the side of your mouth. she then leans over to pass a drink and snacks to the window-seat person, and you just crumble like apple pie from her scented skin wavering through your nostrils, and from her curvature bursting from her buttoned top, causing the sweat to well upon your brow.
then she moves on, pushing her stainless steel coke and snack filled machine and as she passes you, you lean over just to get a touch of her skirt...hmmm.
emirates i do salute you and your bevvy of gorgeous babes:). fly emirates.
anyhows im at 30 000 feet, im engrossed in the steven spielberg and tom hanks produced epic miniseries, the pacific, when i feel a cold chill down my arm, down my back. i take no notice. but around me there's activity, swarming activity. i look down and there upon the carpet is a pool, a swirl of what seemed to be tomato puree, a soup of sorts. my eyes shoot upwards to the gorgeous airhostesss..our eyes lock...uh..., i look to her tray but i don't see any bowl of soup, nor do i recall us having soup and then my eyeballs slowly begin filtering out the hostess, she slowly begins to blur, the foreground begins to recede and the background, although out of focus, emerges. from being a snowy, bad reception, the background comes to the fore, and reveals the image of a podgy wee black kid with pig tails in a pink knitted sweater, the blurriness becoming more vivid. my eyes then pan around and settle on her chubby little pie hole, her knitted sweater and the gobby goop dribbling from her chin and her... kotch stained jumper. at this point i nearly shot an aneurism (got that from an ER episode) Oh my word i wanted to gag. i actually wanted to hooch on that fat lil bastard kid, pay her back. i cant even look at a bed pan, and now i have fall-out sprawled all over me.
the air-hostess rolls up and begins throwing down this disinfectant powder, its like hiroshima. i throw my shirt off and head for the bathroom, topless. she offers me a pyjama top, but can't find one. she offers me laundry service, but they dont have it.
thank goodness touch down was in a few moments.
and so this little episode, this little horror picture show would begin the beginning of the end for a trip to philadelphia....
end of part one
a russian bear hunter in a frosty land
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