I've always loved the whole airport, flying thing - I feel like a little kid again when I turn up at the airport, especially one I've never been to before. However, over the past few years I have become increasingly fucked off by the amount of time people spend on their gadgets in the departure lounge, on the plane, etc.
I remember a simpler time before laptops, iPods, smart phones, etc. I remember a time when the wait in the departure lounge was put to good use by reading a book, doing a crossword, or having a smoke and a beer in the bar - wholesome, healthy pursuits.
It's a couple of weeks ago and we're waiting for a flight to the coast. Some bloke sitting closeby has a laptop held to the side of his head and he's speaking into some kind of microphone jutting out the side of his lug. He's obviously making a phone call, or trying to, and two thoughts immediately spring to mind. One, has this fucker no idea how stupid he looks? Two, how is this more convenient than making a normal call - the guy has a great big fucking laptop stuck to the side of his head!
I take a few minutes to survey the whole departure lounge and it's nothing more than a pathetic gathering of slaves to technology. I observe that they've installed a little bar which is a new addition to the place since my last visit. The boy behind the bar is playing on his mobile phone, looking virtually redundant. Our flight's due to leave in about 30 minutes but I can't pass up the opportunity of getting a beer down me. I sup the first one double quick and get up for another - the boy's face says it all, "that's two more than I've served all day." My missus is quick to point out that I'm the only one in the area having a bevy. Might be the only one with a beer, but I'm one of the few who isn't fingering a keypad or looking longingly into a screen.
When we get on the plane, there's this little suit sitting beside my missus. He's feverishly wanking off his Blackberry, no doubt trying to knock out one final message in case the plane crashes. The trolley dolly comes over and quite rightly asks him to switch it off. The suit nods in compliance and then, when she walks away, proceeds to pull another phone out of his jacket - the cunt is now sitting there with a mobile in either hand! A nerve twitches in my forehead and I can feel the red mist descend. It's a 30 minute flight, for fuck sake! What's so important that it can't wait for another half hour?
Then comes my favourite bit of the flight - the landing. You know, the bit were you're told not to stand up or switch on mobile phones until the plane has come to a complete stop. The suit has one of his Blackberry clan in his hand, making a call before the tyres have even touched tarmac. It's not long before he's followed by the rest of the twats, milling aimlessly around the aisle switching on phones before the plane's remotely close to the terminal. I particularly enjoy the fact that people still expect to be magically whisked off the plane before the pilot has applied the handbrake - you won't get off any fucking faster just because you stand up first!
The mobile gadget has become much more than just a means of communication. For a lot of socially inept people, it is an inanimate friend, "I don't have any real mates, but you'll always be there for me, won't you?" For others, it's just a prop to make them look normal when trying to fill periods of dead time. It's almost like, when we have nothing to do, we have quite simply forgotten what it's like to do absolutely fuck all.
I remember a simpler time before laptops, iPods, smart phones, etc. I remember a time when the wait in the departure lounge was put to good use by reading a book, doing a crossword, or having a smoke and a beer in the bar - wholesome, healthy pursuits.
It's a couple of weeks ago and we're waiting for a flight to the coast. Some bloke sitting closeby has a laptop held to the side of his head and he's speaking into some kind of microphone jutting out the side of his lug. He's obviously making a phone call, or trying to, and two thoughts immediately spring to mind. One, has this fucker no idea how stupid he looks? Two, how is this more convenient than making a normal call - the guy has a great big fucking laptop stuck to the side of his head!
I take a few minutes to survey the whole departure lounge and it's nothing more than a pathetic gathering of slaves to technology. I observe that they've installed a little bar which is a new addition to the place since my last visit. The boy behind the bar is playing on his mobile phone, looking virtually redundant. Our flight's due to leave in about 30 minutes but I can't pass up the opportunity of getting a beer down me. I sup the first one double quick and get up for another - the boy's face says it all, "that's two more than I've served all day." My missus is quick to point out that I'm the only one in the area having a bevy. Might be the only one with a beer, but I'm one of the few who isn't fingering a keypad or looking longingly into a screen.
When we get on the plane, there's this little suit sitting beside my missus. He's feverishly wanking off his Blackberry, no doubt trying to knock out one final message in case the plane crashes. The trolley dolly comes over and quite rightly asks him to switch it off. The suit nods in compliance and then, when she walks away, proceeds to pull another phone out of his jacket - the cunt is now sitting there with a mobile in either hand! A nerve twitches in my forehead and I can feel the red mist descend. It's a 30 minute flight, for fuck sake! What's so important that it can't wait for another half hour?
Then comes my favourite bit of the flight - the landing. You know, the bit were you're told not to stand up or switch on mobile phones until the plane has come to a complete stop. The suit has one of his Blackberry clan in his hand, making a call before the tyres have even touched tarmac. It's not long before he's followed by the rest of the twats, milling aimlessly around the aisle switching on phones before the plane's remotely close to the terminal. I particularly enjoy the fact that people still expect to be magically whisked off the plane before the pilot has applied the handbrake - you won't get off any fucking faster just because you stand up first!
The mobile gadget has become much more than just a means of communication. For a lot of socially inept people, it is an inanimate friend, "I don't have any real mates, but you'll always be there for me, won't you?" For others, it's just a prop to make them look normal when trying to fill periods of dead time. It's almost like, when we have nothing to do, we have quite simply forgotten what it's like to do absolutely fuck all.
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