Earlier this week, I went to visit my friend across the country, in Sydney. (Kit says I need to correct that to ‘a friend’. He says if I write ‘my friend’ it sounds like I only have one, and that might inhibit his chances of fame because nobody wants to follow someone who is totes unpopular; fair enough. I actually caught up with three friends in the two days I was there, but in Kit’s opinion that is a pathetic effort considering I lived in Sydney for seven years, can’t I exaggerate for his sake, and don’t I even care about him at all?!)
While we were sitting pretending to pay attention to the safety demonstration, Kit hissed at me in a stage whisper, “Why do they only have toilets for men and disabled people?”
“What do you mean?” I asked blankly, clearly seeing the sign in front of us for men’s and women’s facilities.
‘Well, there’s a picture of a person in trousers, so I assume that’s meant to be a man. And the other one is a picture of a one legged person in an ill-fitting dress.” He squinted and added after some consideration, “Or possibly a popsicle.”
“I know what you mean,” I said, “I wear dresses as often as my brother. And as far as I’m aware, he hasn’t worn one since that incident in ‘98. I don’t like them in case I have to climb a ladder. What alternative would you prefer?”
“Well, they could put a picture of a big cock on one and…” he trailed off as he noticed my expression, adding, “No. I suppose not. Perhaps just the symbols for male and female, then.”
“A much better idea,” I agreed.
The flight attendant conducting the safety demonstration asked the woman next to us to put her mobile phone in flight mode at least three times. The women looked confused, and went to put down her tray table. The next time, she put it up. Then she fiddled with her window shade. The flight attendant asked me, “Do you think she understands me?” I shook my head.
Eventually, once we were well into the air, and I was attempting not to empty my bowels in terror, wondering if she was going to cause an air crash, she appeared to turn her phone off and put it away. Then she turned to me and began a conversation in perfect English, all the while acting like a perfectly normal person.
I spent the duration of the conversation refraining from punching her in the nose. I don’t like people who think the law doesn’t apply to them. Gravity. I’d genuinely love to see them try and get around that one!