Two nights ago I watched "Big Daddy" with Adam Sandler, in which plenty of remarks were made about one (female) character who wears clothes designed to show off her ... you know. Remarks that featured the word "hooter".
This bleary-eyed morning, I'm on a shabby blue chair in Heathrow airport and I swear, judging by the shirt worn, it could be the same woman who picks up the phone next to me and makes a teary-eyed call somewhere in which the word "entonces" figures plenty of times. Long call. Then she hangs up and drifts off, still teary.
That's what most people seem to do here, they drift about. Ever noticed at a busy airport how many people actually seem to have no particular purpose? Take me. I have hours to kill so I have actually signed up for an outrageously expensive hour of Wi-Fi time so I can check email and write these words. And hey, as I write these words the screen above me tells me that my onward flight "will board" from the gate that's bang next to where I sit. So I don't have to show any particular purpose when I finally get up and move my butt.
Nearly three years since I last left Indian shores, and the first impression of the flight is that you're now spoiled for choice, entertainment-wise. So much that it isn't any fun any more. I leafed through the booklet spotting several films/shorts/items I wanted to see (Monty Python to Dor to The Last Kiss to Abhimaan to The Lighter Side of Wimbledon), therefore resolved to stay awake seeing as many as I could, therefore comprehended none of them in toto. And I'm bleary-eyed to boot. Oh for the days when one screen somewhere in the misty distance showed you one movie and you simply shut your eyes if you didn't want to watch. That simple pleasure is somehow stolen away when you have a screen in front of you.
Morning repast has been my new all-time favourite: Maynard's Sours (Fruit Flavour Pastilles with a Sour Sugar Coating). (Previous all-time favourite: Sainsbury's Blue Parrot Gummy Bears). Nutritious and filling. Part of this hearty breakfast. Suggested serving: lots.
Guy arrives and picks up the same phone that recently had "entonces" muttered into it. He uses rapidfire Tamil. "I've still got an hour", he says. I half think of being kind and offering him a Maynard's Sour Fruit Flavour Pastille. Then I decide not to. That would be one less for me. Hellll-oooo Heathrow! Where's the loo?