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Holy Day Batman!

Eyup! Welcome back to another week of Life at Ward's. Mr C is still away from his desk showing his Australian uncle the sights, sounds and even smells of Britain in the Noughties. Eyup! We're still here though selling catering equipment, commercial and medical refrigeration and catering sundries like men possessed by catering equipment, commercial and medical refrigeration and catering sundries selling demons.

This morning has been all about the parts. Parts parts parts. Every phone call has involved people wanting parts. Anyway I am going on holiday on Saturday to Turkey. All inclusive chav fest (I am hoping there are scuba lessons for a distraction).

So I thought I'd reminisce about old holidays. Mr C and I have been on many a holiday together, Canada 3 times, USA twice and Lanzerote twice. Let's start with flights. The worst part of any holiday is the flight. I am not scared of flying or anything I just don't like how close together the seats are, or the recycled air, or the idiots you have to sit near. So. The funniest 2 incidents both involve Mr C.

1: We were flying back from Toronto and boarded the aircraft. I was quite poorly and just wanted to stare out of the window until I fell asleep. I got all comfy in my seat while Mr C who was sitting in the middle was stowing things in the overhead compartment. He turned around and stood up and cracked his head open like an egg on the door to the compartment and began to bleed in a quite unneccessary fashion. I pulled a towel out of my hand luggage and he used it to stem the flow of arterial blood while the pilot came and checked that he was ok to fly. Then one of the people in the seats behind us said: "I bet that hurt aha ha ha." I immediately span round in my seat and stared at the man between our seats and said "Huh huh huh yeah it's f*****g funny innit! Pr**k!" In an incredibly aggressive tone. The man said not another word for the entire flight.

2: We had just boarded the plane to Lanzerote and we were all giddy and excitable as is usual at the start of a trip. We spied a rather attractive young lady walking down the plane wearing her bikini top and cut off jeans and looking for all the world like a high-class porn star. Mr C was instantly besotted and as she walked past he nudged me and made what can only be described as demented Sid Jamesesque "cooorrrr" ing noises. What Mr C hadn't spotted was the lady's 6ft 5in bodybuilder boyfriend was stood within earshot behind him. The man / mountain laid a huge paw on Chris's quivering shoulder and whispered in a growly whisper "Yeah she's f*****g gorgeous isn't she mate?" Mr C then uttered something along the lines of "What, who? Oh that young lady, yes she's devilishly attractive, you must be very happy, I wish you all the luck in the world, would you like any money?" Of course everywhere we went in Lanzerote for the next 6 days we saw the man and his girlfriend and every meeting would result in the man winking at Mr C and Mr C nervously asking everyone if we didn't think the next tourist attraction wouldn't be a better place to visit today.

3: JUST REMEMBERED A BONUS INCIDENT! We were on another flight to Lanzerote and Mr C was trying to get his head down. We had our backs against the bulkheads and Mr C was cradling his head in his hands against the seat in front. All of a sudden the man in said seat reclined it almost popping Mr C's vertibrae out of the back of his neck. Mr C immediately responded by repeatedly punching the back of the seat with almost unbelievably immense force until the man sitting in it managed to put it back into the upright position and sat shaking and pasty white for the rest of the flight. Mr C then went instantly back to sleep. I have never laughed so hard on an aircraft.

4: BONUS INCIDENT NUMBER 2: We were sat behind the emergency exit seats on a flight to LAX I think. This is galling enough considering the three of us equal over 18ft in height and over 45st in weight. There was a little tiny lady and small boy sat in the seats in front of the emergency exit with over 5 yards of legroom all to themselves. Also this meant that they didn't have seat pockets in front of them to put their stuff in. So the woman in front put her handbag under her seat, on my feet (instead of in the overhead locker).

This became annoying, so after pulling the bag back under the seat and rifling through the contents, counting her money and checking the ingredients of her sandwiches I threw the bag back down the aisle. About halfway through the flight Little Miss Selfish got peckish and had to go and retrieve her sandwich while I pretended to read.