British Arseways
I was supposed to leave for America yesterday, and I’m a day late.
I had a bad feeling on the morning when the button on my trousers fell off just as the taxi turned up to take me to the station. My train to London stopped at Watford due to signal failure and all the passengers had to squash into small sweaty local train adding a hour into the travel time in the blistering heat. Getting on the tube to heathrow I had the unexpected joy walking into the same carriage as the girls who are also heading out to the states for the comedysportz tournament (the improv show we do at the comedy store). I think there’s a law about coincidances like that.this joy was short lived
Getting to the airport I was told by the nice perosn at the desk that there were no seats left on the flight, and I would have to wait to see if there were cancellations. What? An hour later I was there were no seats so I wouldn’t be able to board the flight with my 5 chums who were happliy sitting on the other side of checkin.
I went apes**t.
The following five minutes of shouting included abuse, a speech on customer care, a pep talk on how to run a business, and the single greatest ‘exhalation of air to express dissapointment’ (followed by raised arms) I have ever done.
I’m now sitting, the next day, in the check out gate waiting for my flight having spent the night in a hotel, stuffing my face with food and drink all at the expense of British Airways.
They did give me compensation, which I have used to buy new trousers.