"Good evening sir. Welcome to fl-" I switch my brain off. Avoid hearing their artificial welcomes, two facetious smiles and a ripple of Chinese whispers.
I seat myself, buckle in. "Sir may I tell you about..." Yeah yeah bring it on bring it on. Tell me all about the lovely emergency exit. You don't really want to tell me and I definitely do not wish to listen. But unfortunately you have to tell me and I surely must pretend to listen.
Thank you very much.
I'm a row 18 traveller. I know which rows are the back emergency exits with additional legspace (row 18). Which airhostesses are going thru nervous breakdowns (look for the extra puffy eyes) and which damn pilots do not for their lives know how to make a decent announcement (the drunk ones).
I hate being a row 18 traveller.