As well as being the World’s Most Anxious Person. I’m also the
clumsiest. Every time I fly I come back with a fresh set of bruises. I have no
idea how I get most of them, I suspect that most are picked up during my
preflight checks and actually getting into the plane. I mean what do you expect when an essential part
of your preflight equipment is a milk crate?
This phenomenon is not limited to flying. When I used to sail I
would end up looking like a victim of domestic abuse after every trip. The
difference with sailing was that I could actually identify each piece of deck
hardware that had left its mark. A horn
cleat on the left leg, a pulley track on the right arm and that fantastic time where
I managed to slice the back of my Jean’s leg on a deck rail and had to sail
round the entire island with my ass hanging out.
With flying the bruises are a lot more indistinct. If questioned
about them I say either RTH or BOB beats me if I get it wrong (depending on who
is asking!). Well it sounds a hell of a lot better than “I fell off my plane!”
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