Saturday 29 May 2010

No Gina, this blog is not about you.

People watching is my thing.
The other week I was on a plane coming back to Belfast from East Midlands Airport. Where is that? From what I can gather, in the middle of England somewhere. Upon arrival it says something about it being the gateway to Lincoln, Nottingham, Birmingham and other places, so I'm guessing near them, somewhere.
Anyway, I had been over there to visit my grandparents for a couple of nights and days. Why? Because I missed them. Because I hadn't seen them in over over a year. Because I desperately wanted to travel somewhere. Because every year during exam season I take procrastination to a whole new level.
I was sat behind a mother and daughter. But not just any mother and daughter, the kind of mother and daughter who, from first glance, you're unsure as to who is the mother and who is the daughter.
The daughter must have been about my age, give or take a few years, but dressed and looked as though she was in her late twenties, and acted as though she was a spoilt 10 year old. The mother looked about 31, but was most likely a little older than that, unless it was a case of childhood pregnancy. They both had slapped on an extreme amount of fake tan, were tattooed all over, wore "seductive" "travel" outfits, and acted as though being given attention was the only reason they bothered breathing.
In other words, I wanted to slap them.
After they had held up half the people getting onto the plane by rummaging through bright pint fake gucci bags attempting to uncover headphones, knocked out the man in front of them by dropping one of the bags on his head, stocked up on the not-so-reasonably priced Ryanair booze and upset the whole cabin by screeching during turbulence, I began to warm up to them. A little.
The Nottingham-accented daughter was sat next to a Belfastian young man, who seemed to be enjoying the attention he was getting from this obnoxious pair. In fact, the two 'youngsters' hit it off.
As they chatted their way through the length of the flight, a whole 45 minutes of getting to know each other, I listened with great amusement to their flirty conversation.
The plane landed, applause rang out from the men on a stag weekend at the back, and your man and your woman exchanged phone numbers and facebook details, saying they would arrange to meet up over the weekend, and then I walked off so heard no more.

The point of this story? None really. It just made my day. Reminded me once again that I should really give people from all walks of life a chance, and not write them off as being fools. And it was the first time I thought 'must write a blog about this'.
So I did.

2 comments:

  1. By saying that this Blog is not about me, you made it about me :) Haaa! Oh Emma Joanne Wood, I loved this entry! I'm already excited for the next one! xxx

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  2. I love this! I definitely agree with you. Keep giving us working class people a chance - we're great.

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