There are two ways to look at good manners.
- They are the glue of a civilised society.
- They get in the way of living and getting what you want.
My good manners get in the way of getting armrests on a plane flight. It seems every time I hop on a plane, the man next to me takes my armrests. If I’m in the middle seat between two men. BOOM. Both armrests gone. It’s a small thing I know, but I seethe as I sit like a pencil for a whole flight and they sit for a whole flight without even realising they have a heightened sense of elbow entitlement.
For a while now I’ve been hoping to pass Bernard Tomic or Kanye on the airport travelator and just as we accidentally touch fingers across the rubber divide, we are hit by an eerie bolt of lightening (or even an eerie electric shock from a spilt Boost juice). We swap bodies Freaky Friday style and Tomic or Kanye (who are now stuck inside of me) get the middle seat between the entitled armrest men. Let’s see what comes out of my mouth then.
And as I’m now inside Kanye or Tomic, I won’t make a fuss when dealing with airport staff who have lost my luggage.
“It’s no problem my rackets have gone to Puerto Rico. Accidents happen Shirley. I’m sure Novak will lend me one of his for the Australian Open.”
“Sure Shirley. Kim can wait for her present. I realise you are doing your best.”
Obviously I can’t wait for a bit of Freaky Friday-ing with the boys to sort out my armrest situation. And, anyway, it only works when you hit your head and are struck by lightening — AT THE SAME TIME.