Not so much "airport" as "aeroplane"
So when I was about 11 or 12, my dad was on business in Denmark. This involved him getting a flight out every week, then coming home for the weekend, which was all paid for by his company. The great bit is, he got to keep the air miles, so he sent me and my brother out for a weekend. Since he was in Denmark already, we had to fly alone, so my mum took us to the airport, and a stewardess took us through the airport and put us on the plane. On our own. In business class. Business class is supposed to be for businesstypes who want to enjoy a quiet smooth flight. HA! Being the fine upstanding childs we were, we weren't about to let that happen! No! We had to be as loud as we could, to represent all childs across the land, and not let our fellow younglings' reputation be tarnished by being "good". The pinnacle of our excitement was probably about 10 minutes before we landed: I asked for a can of coke (which, even though it was tiny, was free, because that's what happens in business class, and I was like 11 and wouldn't have had money for it anyway). I proceeded to pull the ring pull, which inexplicably fell off. As I looked at the can, wondering exactly how I was to get into it, my brother grabbed it off of me and stabbed it with his fork. Try this at home and see what happens. Landing time was spent with both of us laughing our arses off, while I was trying to drink very fast coke through four small holes.
( Styxx hates when people talk in the third person, Tue 7 Mar 2006, 2:36, Reply)