Into the Cock Pit.

All went well with my little trip with Easyjet; what a wonderful company it is!

The cabin crew were very professional and highly attentive. Half way through the flight a member of the crew came to ask me if I wanted to go up front.

“Why would I want to do that, dear?”

The aircraft was not soundproofed as well as my own, so the noise made it difficult to hear correctly.

“The captain thought you might like to see his cock fit.”

A cloud of gin sprayed from my lips as I clenched the back of the seat in front – and as chance would have it, a clump of hair of the over weight lady sat there.

I gasped for air and gathered my composure

“See his cock fit in to what, dear?”

“No…Pit, Dame Crusty; his cock PIT …it’s where he flies the plane?”

I sashayed up to the front with my faithful houseboy close behind. When I arrived the captain – a rather attractive gentleman of foreign extraction - introduced himself in a very confident and succinct manner.

“Good morning! Pul Haard!” He said.

“Good morning! Chu Me …..Crusty Gusset.” I replied.

As he showed me the array of dials set out in front of him and he and the co-pilot twiddled with their knobs and adjusted their flaps, I was mesmerised by the complexities of getting an aircraft from A to B. One is so used to sitting in the leather arm chair in ones own jet, being given a crystal decanter full of Gin, a bowl of olives and simply instructing Chu Me, “Bring me round when we get there!”

One shall look at flying in a different light from now on.