Diary of an Elderly Englishwoman
October 3rd 2023
I’m airborne, en route to Seattle and a month with friends Darlene and Steve.
One would never buy wine from a can, not THIS one, anyway, but it’s actually quite … um, Nice. I get as drunk as is sociable on long haul flights, because my intention is to sleep between lunch and .. lunch. It being served now, and around the same time, Pacific, at the other end of the flight.
There are always adventures. My lounge provider at Terminal Three had switched companies, and finding Lounge No1 when every other lounge was discoverable by a letter, proved a challenge, but I overcame it.
The lounge passes come as a job lot with the premier bank account Ray insists is good value, but only, I reckon, if you exercise every ounce of ingenuity to find the lost lounge and have a full English Breakfast and a complimentary gin and tonic.
Yes, I’m getting squiffy on notionally free booze, which is the way to go. 👍🏼
I was the last on. I always dawdle, and noticing my boarding group was #9, I foresaw no problem. I was savouring that g&t. I wasn’t last in the boarding queue, but I was near the end. Handing over my boarding card, I discovered I had been randomly selected for the full security search. Taken out of line and moved to one side like a drug mule, was a little disconcerting, but a quick examination of conscience flagged up just a lipstick that hadn’t gone with the liquids, and that doesn’t count.
I may have smiled too much and my joke about having won the lottery (“random selection”) didn’t get a laugh, but I recalled from the DHS warnings in the US that jokes are not welcome, so I forgave it.
I did feel rather special. I’ve never been “randomly selected”, before, unless you count the time when a scammer was allegedly giving me an iPad,
It was the full works with an electronic wand. The security lady was efficient and as friendly as allowed. Suddenly there was a kerfuffle at the desk, One, “Mary Francis,” had checked in at the desk but not arrived in the cabin, so there was a panic on … “I’m here!” I squeaked, like an excited puppy, relieved that, for once, being mislaid was not actually my fault.
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