Flight cards
I used to have a stack of them safety cards you get on planes. An absolute stack I tell you; I'd only nick it off the plane if I didn't have it before, and I could remember exactly where I was going and why for each and every one.

I had one from my first ever flight; Gatwick to Croatia; I remember the odd feeling of lifting off the ground in the A320 and being pushed back in the chair thinking "Fuck me, the guy's aiming it 90 degrees up!" (yeah I was new to it then - now I rarely even bat an eyelid on take-off).

I remember one of my first business flight ever; Heathrow to Aberdeen (fucking miserable place that was).

There the card I stole on the way back from my mum's 50th; the only plane i've ever barfed on due to turbulence + a mighty mighty hangover.

There's the card from the plane that first took me to the USA...There were fuck loads, each one with it's own memory of where I was going, what I did there, and why.


They were my pride and joy; I'd go through the collection with friends and family alike; proudly explaining why I was on the plane shown in the card, etc (even women I was trying to get inside, which oddly enough actually worked once).

Then, one day my mum lobbed the lot in the bin while clearing up my room. She said "You shouldn't have stolen them anyway!" in that 'told you so' voice mum's are great at.

You could practically hear me screaming "Myyy prrreciooouussssssss!" in a golumn type fashion 10 streets away.

A whole stack of memories lost forever.

edit: I love my mum really. She's great most of the time
( slippery doctore, Thu 8 May 2008, 17:58, Reply)