Proud Infidel ranting about the ongoing war against democratic and secular values (Don't fool yourselves)! Maybe a voice of sanity in a wide ocean of madness.



In just about twoo weeks I'll be going off to Teneriffe. It will also be just about ten years since I did my first charter trip. I have travelled around Europe quite much but had never done it as a charter tourist until then.

We were a party of three. My sister and my brother in law flied from Gothenburg while I Flew from Kallax- LuleƄ (northern part of Sweden). They were touching down at Crete a couple of hours before I was supposed to arriwe.

So I took my car and drowe south for the 250 km trip that would take me to Kallax. When I arriwed there, they said that the plane was broken and I would have to wait until early morning before they could get a replaicment aircraft for us.

I was given a hotel room at a hotel a couple of kilometers from the airport. So there I was, on a Friday night, without anything to do. As it happened, my kid sister in those days worked at a bar- Tallkotten- in LuleƄ. So I thought "What a heck. I'll take a cab in to town and have a few ones".

Late at night I returned to my hotel room heavily intoxicated, slumped down on the bed and was woken up just an hour later by the hotel staff alarming me of the taxi departure for the airport.

On arriwal, I noticed that most of the passangers was hicks, and they were drinking heavilly although it was just06.30 AM! I learned that we were going to fly in a MD8 rather than in the Airbus we from the beginning was supposed to have- Bummer! With all the extra seats crammed in, I knew I would have a hard time to fit in.

Well boarded I found myself sitting at the outer seat with a married pair inside. The woman was sitting closest to the window, and it seemed that she had some serious bladder problems, because every thirty minutes she wanted to go to the bathroom. Meanwhile her husband drank whiskey- one after another.

After the third time or so that the woman left for the loo, the husband sat down before me and took down that folding table and put down his glass of whiskey on it. I tried to put my ass on the chair (with my knees around my ears), but my shirt caught hold of the table with the whiskey glass. It worked as a spring board! The glass took air, made a couple of sommersaults before landing in the patrons crotch...Needless to say, he was not particulary happy, and we had four more hours of flight.
To be continued


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