I've arrived early for my flight. The plan is that I sit in the fancy lounge and get some work done.
Well I'm sat in the fancy lounge and, to be honest, I'm not sure about the whole work thing...
I'm easily distracted, and as airports go, Geneva is quite fascinating - the mix of people passing through is unlike any other airport in the world. On any given day, you can see the following:
1. Russian millionaires, with wives ordered from the slutty section.
2. Tarquin and Jocasta, heading back from Val d'isere with Mummy (Daddy is already back in the city).
3. Libyan men in safari suits, waiting for the ever-delayed Air Afriqiyah flight to Tripoli.
4. French sorts looking lost, much gallic shrugging.
5. Posh British girls heading home from finishing school.
6. A Bennetton ad of UN kids on their way back to LSE.
7. An Oxfam type, usually female, usually badly dressed. Going home after speaking at the UNHCR.
8. A posse of braying bankers. All nationalities. All vile.
9. Chinese woman frantically waving her UN 'laisser passer' at immigration.
10. A scruffy 'bloke' or 'lad', always English, with his leg in plaster.
You get the picture.
Sure, it's fascinating, but I spend my whole time here hoping that the passenger next to me is not on this list....
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Especially the one with his leg in plaster.
Need you over at my blog to do a little interesting experiment (and, no, it doesn't involve anything nasty).
People watching is so satisfying somehow...
A bit like the crowd at the bus stop this morning then. Well there were certainly lots of women from the slutty section anyway (miaow)
Trust me - at one time or another they've all sat next to me.
This time I had the mother with a ten year old boy. He played his Nintendo while she cried. All the way to Amsterdam.
Freaked me out, I can tell you.
"This time I had the mother with a ten year old boy. He played his Nintendo while she cried. All the way to Amsterdam."
There's a novel in there. or at least a screenplay. Something by the Cohen bros.
Tagged you for a meme over at mine
I love to people watch in airports. I think if I were ever to write a book, it would be a great place for characters. The new trendies all cashmere and sunglasses; old money with expensive comfortable luggage, businessmen stiff suits and Blackberrys. Young mothers with siblings hassled and urgent, tourists with smiles and foreign currency. Fascinating
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