I recently went on a trip. To Italy.
Large Airports are fascinating places. You can literally see every type and race of person in the world. A People Watcher’s Paradise.
The other morning I suddenly remembered something that happened at Gatwick and kind of snort/laughed to myself in the car. You know how you do, then you can’t stop smiling and snorting for
Large Airports are fascinating places. You can literally see every type and race of person in the world. A People Watcher’s Paradise.
The other morning I suddenly remembered something that happened at Gatwick and kind of snort/laughed to myself in the car. You know how you do, then you can’t stop smiling and snorting for
ages after? That.
It’s not something that happened to me, but a very well polished ‘Lady Who Lunches’, merrily chatting away to her friends on the rolling walkway. She was facing backward, yackety yack.
Not one of her perfumed, plucked, botoxed buddies thought to point out that she was coming to the end of the roll and she would soon need to start getting back to putting one foot in front of the other. In hindsight, they may even have planned it. Perhaps she had mixed the gin and tonics incorrectly at lunch time and it was her retribution.
Anyway, rather than continuing to explain why she preferred Gucci to Armani, or whatever it was she was blathering about…she promptly stopped dead in front of everyone. Her arms took on a whole new life of their own and, seemingly elbowing herself in the head in the process, her knees buckled below her, leaving her on all fours on the floor, Gucci handbag laying forlorn beside her and her Mac lipstick making a run for it for Gate 24….ditch the friends my love.
It’s not something that happened to me, but a very well polished ‘Lady Who Lunches’, merrily chatting away to her friends on the rolling walkway. She was facing backward, yackety yack.
Not one of her perfumed, plucked, botoxed buddies thought to point out that she was coming to the end of the roll and she would soon need to start getting back to putting one foot in front of the other. In hindsight, they may even have planned it. Perhaps she had mixed the gin and tonics incorrectly at lunch time and it was her retribution.
Anyway, rather than continuing to explain why she preferred Gucci to Armani, or whatever it was she was blathering about…she promptly stopped dead in front of everyone. Her arms took on a whole new life of their own and, seemingly elbowing herself in the head in the process, her knees buckled below her, leaving her on all fours on the floor, Gucci handbag laying forlorn beside her and her Mac lipstick making a run for it for Gate 24….ditch the friends my love.