The Embarassing Aeroplane Experience.

I'm on board a luxury aeroplane, from the outside it just looks like a normal aeroplane, but after checking in and boarding, I see that this is far from the truth.

Inside, there are escalators, a shopping mall, food halls and glass partitions, just like a massive space station you would see in a movie.

I have my ticket in my hand, and I'm staring at my seat number. There are no signs on the aeroplane as to where the seating area is and a sense of panic starts to rise in every sinew and vein of my body.

I walk over to a lady who has her baby in a pram. The lady just stares straight through me as if I am not there, but the baby points at me and laughs, a sinister, calous laugh.

A single tear rolls down my cheek.

I decide to head upwards, and board one of the escalators. As I'm being transported up to the next level, the hem of my skirt and my jacket start to rise very slowly, i feel the material creeping up my leg. Another sense of panic hits me, and I start to perspire.

I reach the top, and the skirt and jacket cease to rise, thank goodness.

I'm standing next to an old jamaican lady who is manning an old fashioned tea trolley. I look at her in despair, and as I start to ask her the way to the seats she stops me in my tracks, saying "Hush my dear, no need to speak, have this magical teabag, this will make it all seem better", handing me a small silver case which is open to reveal an ordinary looking teabag. I smile at her, while tears roll down my face, and then i turn and run in blind panic, and as I run, the skirt and jacket start to rise again, and I clutch at them, trying to pull them back down to normal length, to cover my now exposed buttocks.

Bam! I bump into an old friend that I haven't seen for ages, and now live far away from. She takes my hand and calms me with her voice. She takes me through a glass door, past airport type lockers and luggage racks that are spilling over with opened suitcases and personal belongings, and into the space that holds the seating area. She points to my seat and says, "There look, it's got your name on it." Sure enough, the seat has my name embroidered into the fabric.

I turn to thank her, but she isn't there, and then the other passengers point at me and laugh.