Somewhere over the North Sea,
16th September, 2011
I thought that even now, though technically still in British airspace, chances would be slim of running into a Halien; a special breed of credit-rich weasel, capable of a vacancy that would shame Miss Hilton and that had plagued my working weeks in their wretched hive (otherwise known as Hale) for the last three years.
Within three minutes of take-off, the well-bred and all slightly ginger, cabaret act of Gnarly-haired & Nacho-eating, Ruggerboys ahead of me had said,
“I blates would have come-up with Ebay if that other fellow hadn’t.”
In the already clammy-aired Budget Airline Cabin, it hit me as if he had perched over his seat-head and wetly whiz-popped in my face. It does not usually take these goofy, scooter kids* long to offend me but it seemed that these three were really trying…
“Kook-patrol’s (*citation needed) latest album is heavily inspired by SnowRazor’s ground-breaking use of the progressive electro-sound. ‘Totes think it’s their seminal piece, y’ah. Although… I don’t like the last half of the album…
....Nachos.”**
Has the music industry become that saturated with bile that an album (recorded, marketed and released several times before) with four so-so tracks, can be referred to as anything but tripe? Need I bother to rant further about his blasé use of such an accolade as seminal?
I think so.
We were cruising as close as it gets to the Great Spirit up here… Was he not fearful that he might be heard? That an almighty thunderbolt might be hurled, tearing this tin-can in half and leaving us like flailing sardines with nothing but an abandoned stomach as we hurtle toward the icy blue? I peered out of the view-hole in hope. I hate flying yet throughout the duration of the three hour up-down, the no-doubt inheritors of club blazers and memberships a’plenty, continued to upset the stomach more than the flight. Around one hour in and I would have taken a skateboard and a plastic-bagged- flailing egress if the opportunity had presented itself.
Which, unsurprisingly, it didn’t.
*The Jack Will’s wearing, Nacho-obsessed yout’ who seem convinced that “tail” whipping a child’s scooter up a 5 inch Curb is Gnarly; which it isn’t.
**The final word of this monologue has been inserted by the author (but it sounded like he was thinking it).
