A more comfortable flight

As if having to tolerate being trapped in a metal tube with the incessant cackling of L-plate festooned girls away on a hen weekend isn’t bad enough (or indeed, tolerating the elevated levels of testosterone and Stella Artois of blokes on a stag weekend), The European Commission has now ruled that we can all use our mobile telephones on plane flights in European airspace.

I really hate flying. It’s not a phobia thing, I don’t break into cold sweats and beat-up the cabin crew as soon as the plane leaves the runway, I just find that once take-off is complete and we are all soaring above the clouds, flying becomes ever so tedious. To combat this, I sit myself down (preferably in a window seat); I form my jacket into a makeshift pillow, I unravel my iPod earbuds for a selection of fine tunage and I dive into a good book/sleep. It’s a ritual that successfully isolates me from my surroundings and seems to render the passage of time a bit less tedious.

All of which will prove futile when the cackling Tracys and Stella’d Waynes are yelling down their mobile phones (“I’m flying over your house Donna”), harassing the cabin crew with their camera phones, blasting out ringtones to all and sundry and generally being bunch of arseholes.

Modes of transport and mobile phones do not mix. From the noisy mp3-ringtoned teenagers on the bus to the unsuccessful businessman on the train, sat in standard class name-checking golfing buddies to his bored secretary, all they do is piss people off. People like me, who just want to get to their destination as quickly and as quietly as possible.

Nigel always seems to get the bad flights. He also always seems to sit next to the nutter on the bus. Or next to teenagers. Nigel hates fun and Dom Joly.