Don’t Cry Over Spilled Milk

Greetings from the future.

We are safely landed, through customs, through baggage claim, through second inspection line, and at our lovely hotel in Melbourne. The weather is a little drizzly and brisk.  And we are looking quite sprightly considering the amount of time it’s been since our last proper shower.

Our flights over were uneventful and highly tolerable. We had an entire row to ourselves on the international leg and plenty of in-flight entertainment. The staff were friendly and helpful. The food was great. The coffee was amazing.

Have I ever mentioned coffee on this site? Maybe that’s because it’s never been served to me like it was on this trip. I think the key is in the creamer you use; how much, how quickly you pour it, etc etc. This attendant nailed it. I’m talking perfect pipping hot coffee, breaky ready to be eaten and then came the creamer. A whole bottle full, tipped over, pouring fast as you like. Directly. On. To. Me.

Oh yes.

Being the model plane rider that I am, I was dutifully buckled into my seat, chair upright, and tray down full of my hot breakfast. In other words yours truly was trapped. It would not have mattered if scalding water had been boiling down, unless I threw my tray in the air and miraculously figured out the chinese finger trap known as airline seat belts, I was there for the whole show. The show didn’t end until my inarticulate grunts of “Eh eh! Milk! Milk!” (words were not exactly flowing at the 20th hour of travel) were finally comprehended by the flight attendant who put the creamer upright and bombarded me with towels.

Oh yes. My jeans, sweater and seat were covered in milk. With 2 hours and 45 minutes to go. And you thought normal plane ride stench was bad.

I think that age old adage “No use crying over spilled milk”  was more for the person who did the spilling, as in, ‘don’t worry, you’ve only missed out on a little milk’. I wonder what the adage is supposed to be for those who are spilled-on? ‘Don’t worry, it’ll only stink for a moment’? ‘Never fear, milk isn’t known to stain’?

How about: “No worries, here’s a complimentary bottle of French champagne”.

 
Which is exactly what happened. All’s well that ends in bubbly. Cheers from Melbourne!