Boss is at the Berlin air show, Corina’s off to the hospital, so I’m all alone in the office.

So, I caught up on some work – got ahead in some other stuff…then got a bit bored. Now this generally means hitting B3ta.com, and I came across this little gem:

The greatest plane journey in the world….
Maybe that should be most embarrassing. Pull up a chair, it’s a long one I’m afraid.

The initial torment was making the mistake of being a fifteen year old boy. It plays havoc on the hormones and all manner of strange things can happen. As a random example, say, the vibration of a plane giving you the most persistent erection known to man. Now this is of course hideable unless three key things come into conjunction.
1. You’re flight is nine hours long, your mother told you to wear something comfortable and you chose very thin track suit bottoms.
2. You checked in very early and are sitting right at the front of the plane. That means in front of about 200 other passengers.
3. Your cousin insists, what with you being tall, that you put her bag in the overhead compartment RIGHT NOW.
The result of this is me, not only standing but actually stretching, accentuating even further the blantant erection tenting out the front of my track suit bottoms to an alarming proportion in front of 200 total strangers.

Get in!

Can this flight get worse? Of course it can, I haven’t got to the misunderstanding yet.

So a couple of hours later and my ears are popping like a bugger causing me no end of pain and annoyance. It’s at this time a stewardess approaches me and, thrusting a food tray in my direction, says, what I’m pretty sure, is “Muhmeemuumoo?” At this point I’m starving so nod enthusiastically giving no thought to the fact that no one around me is being served.

I look down at the tray to see a mound of salad which leaves me slightly disappointed. No where near as disappointed, however, as the realisation that the same stewardess is now talking to an angry man sitting just across the aisle from me who is loudly remonstrating with her. Apparently he’s a vegetarian and the stewardess is very sorry but they appear to be one vegetarian meal short on this flight. A rather large penny drops in my head.

I of course just turn bright red and shit myself at the thought of two public humiliations in one day when I point out my mistake to the stewardess. My loving brother has twigged as to what’s going on and is trying not to laugh out loud in the seat beside me. The bloke across from me is now very angry indeed. Suddenly I am blessed by the ghost of cool (a very rare occurance in my life).

I calmly tapped the stewardess on the shoulder and told her I’d overheard their arguement and said I was only a vegetarian for health reasons, not any kind of beliefs, so I’d be happy to give up my meal for this man and eat the regular stuff. She looked at me with a faceful of such thankfulness I thought my guilt would make me die.

She gave the man my meal and I relaxed in the glow of kudos. Shortly she returned and gave me not only my normal food but a little model of a plane by way of a thank you. My guilt hit fever pitch and then was quickly followed by an altogether more terrifying thought. Surely there would be a list of passengers on the plane who had ordered a vegetarian meal and surely I wouldn’t be one of them.

I spent the next five hours sweating with the guilt and worry of being found out. When we landed I barged people out of the way to get off the plane first and away from the thankful smile of the stewardess. As a touch of karma, being that I was off the plane about five minutes before my brother he said I missed them talking about me. To this day I’ve never been sure but he must have made this bit up, he just must have done.

As he walked out of the door he swears one of the other stewards asked the captain for the little model plane for a friend, the captain explained they’d already given it away to “that veggie kid with the hard on who gave up his meal”.
(Gleeballs has spent at least 15 of his 29 years cringing

Heh…