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Minor things that make you happy

Tree13 said:
Flight back from France on Sunday just gone. Mrs. Tree and I have paid a few pennies extra for specific seats (emergency exit row) and priority boarding. We are in the first group of 8 or 10 people to get on board and, because we are not dribbling oxygen thieves, we have one small cabin bag between us. This cabin bag goes straight into the overhead bin and we take our seats.

25 minutes later and most of the passengers are now on board (flight is pretty much full). Just the morons left to go - the ones who have to be called by name over the airport tannoy system, the ones who try to bring on three cabin bags, the ones who simply cannot read their ticket and identify the seat they have been allocated - you know the type.

Bloke with a "cabin bag" the size of a horse's coffin is shuffling down the aisle. He's tried the bin above his seat - it's full. He's tried bins above other people's seats and had no luck so far... he gets to the bin above our seats. He opens it... can't get his ridiculously excessively large bag in there. Looks hopefully at the trolly dolly:

"If you take that backpack out, I can get my bag in there."

Trolly dolly responds by asking to all in the vicinity: "Who's bag is this?" (indicating Mrs. Tree's little rucksack. My hackles rise...)

"That's my bag." Mrs. Tree smiles sweetly, knowing full well what's about to happen.

"Sorry sir, but people in exit rows cannot have their bags under their seats. We can't move this lady's bag." Trolly Dolly is sympathetic, but assertive.

"Oh, what about if we put that bag under my seat in row 7, and I put my bag up here?" asks selfish man.

"That would be up to this lady," replies trolly dolly "I can't make her do that."

"No thanks. I like my bag where it is." replies Mrs. Tree.

Selfish man is forced to check his massive bag in as hold luggage, like he should have done in the first place. As he walks off down the aisle, defeated and dejected, Mrs. Tree mutters "bellend" under her breath. I chuckle quietly to myself and fall in love with Mrs. Tree all over again.
Click to expand...

It's these little victories that make life worth living mate.

Tell your wife, that I salute her stance against bellendery
 
Tree13 said:
Flight back from France on Sunday just gone. Mrs. Tree and I have paid a few pennies extra for specific seats (emergency exit row) and priority boarding. We are in the first group of 8 or 10 people to get on board and, because we are not dribbling oxygen thieves, we have one small cabin bag between us. This cabin bag goes straight into the overhead bin and we take our seats.

25 minutes later and most of the passengers are now on board (flight is pretty much full). Just the morons left to go - the ones who have to be called by name over the airport tannoy system, the ones who try to bring on three cabin bags, the ones who simply cannot read their ticket and identify the seat they have been allocated - you know the type.

Bloke with a "cabin bag" the size of a horse's coffin is shuffling down the aisle. He's tried the bin above his seat - it's full. He's tried bins above other people's seats and had no luck so far... he gets to the bin above our seats. He opens it... can't get his ridiculously excessively large bag in there. Looks hopefully at the trolly dolly:

"If you take that backpack out, I can get my bag in there."

Trolly dolly responds by asking to all in the vicinity: "Who's bag is this?" (indicating Mrs. Tree's little rucksack. My hackles rise...)

"That's my bag." Mrs. Tree smiles sweetly, knowing full well what's about to happen.

"Sorry sir, but people in exit rows cannot have their bags under their seats. We can't move this lady's bag." Trolly Dolly is sympathetic, but assertive.

"Oh, what about if we put that bag under my seat in row 7, and I put my bag up here?" asks selfish man.

"That would be up to this lady," replies trolly dolly "I can't make her do that."

"No thanks. I like my bag where it is." replies Mrs. Tree.

Selfish man is forced to check his massive bag in as hold luggage, like he should have done in the first place. As he walks off down the aisle, defeated and dejected, Mrs. Tree mutters "bellend" under her breath. I chuckle quietly to myself and fall in love with Mrs. Tree all over again.
Click to expand...
Tell Mrs T that I too have fallen in love with her.
 

Our beloved team are beyond turgid and Goodison Park is like a morgue.

Thankfully alcohol, in copious quantities, remains the great solace it has always been.

Cheers everyone.
 
Is it possible to tell that someone's a terrible actor just from a single static image?

0fa86e01a049aace26e16955692cf9c45e102aaf.jpg
 


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