Monday, February 27, 2012

The Macarana

There are few people more insane than my male staff. After all, he's a travel agent and he supports West Ham United Football Club. Does that sound rational to you? No, of course it doesn't, but then you're playing with a full deck. However, I do know at least one person who is madder than my male staff and that's my male staff's mad sister. This is how mad she is. She works for the Post Office and doesn't even carry a gun.
Anyway, she and her long suffering husband are flying out to Australia and bringing my male staff's dad with them, though what he's done to deserve that God only knows.

Last time Mad Sister and Long Suffering Husband came to Australia they were almost stranded in Dubai. Apparently they nearly missed their connecting flight and had a flustered, sweaty sprint from one end of the terminal to the next, and then were only allowed to board because Mad Sister threatened to do the Macarana if they didn't let them on. Naturally they were quickly ushered onto the aircraft and upgraded to business class. So, if they only just made it last time, what chance will they have this time? They'll be slowed by my male staff's dad who walks about as fast as an arthritic two legged tortoise. They're going to get him a wheel chair, dress him in one of those skin tight Lycra suits that track cyclists wear and stick one of those silly tear dropped shaped cycling helmets on his head to reduce drag and enhance his not so aerodynamic shape. Then they'll shove him in the wheelchair and push like hell. If they get there too late this time Mad Sister says she'll threaten to make my male staff's dad stand up and do the macarana in his Lycra suit. That would not be a pretty sight and the gate agent would be sure to let them on, even if the plane had left and was belting down the runway at a hundred and fifty knots.
 "Captain bin Linah. Captain bin Linah."
 "Roger. Bin Linah responding."
 "Funny, I've known you for months but I never knew your name was Roger. Abort take off! Abort take off! There's a woman here armed with an offensive father." At this point Mad Sister will snatch the radio handset from the gate agent.
 "Listen bin Linah. If you don't abort take off and let us on the plane, your gate agent is going to get an eyeful of an eighty four year old man in a Lycra suit doing the macarana. You wouldn't want that on your conscience would you?"

Really though Mad Sister shouldn't be allowed on a plane. On a night flight she once called a flight attendant over to look at another plane that she thought was flying dangerously close to theirs. It turned out to be their own wing tip light. Then there was the time when she'd had a couple of drinks on the plane and was holding the empty plastic cup over her nose with her teeth so that it looked as though she had a pig snout. She then turned and snorted at Long Suffering Husband, except that she'd forgotten that Long Suffering Husband was sitting on the other side. The good looking young chap next to her was a little surprised.

Ah well, it'll be nice to see them all if they do eventually make it to Australia. For one thing it'll make a change to have three different laps to pee on and we all need variety in our lives. It get boring peeing on the same old laps all the time.

BADGERS FOOTNOTE  
Sometimes I accidently pee on my own feet.

2 comments:

  1. billy, what can I say! you know how to paint a picture, turn a phrase and tell a tale! MOL

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  2. All my secrets in one blog! They will be looking out for me at the airport - I may as well turn up with my own latex gloves, bottom passage exploring, for the purpose of! Oh, and tell Billy I sometimes accidently pee on my own feet too. Especially during turbulence.

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