Recently, I was in one of the world's best and most efficient airports - Singapore's very own Changi. I waited in line to drop off my bag for a 2-week trip, after having checked in online. Enter stage center - couple from the Paleolithic Era.
Well, I know how it is to be trapped in a foreign land where you don't understand the language. But all you need is basic knowledge of alphabets and numerals to get going. As I stood there losing my patience, the couple ahead (whose nationality I will not reveal) stood there repeatedly asking for directions. I mean, you check in, you go to the gate. The number is printed on your boarding pass. Some people will intervene and ask for your passport, pat you down, make lascivious eye contact etc. All this is well known and thoroughly enjoyable.
Not with this couple, who apparently had trouble coordinating their two pairs of eyeballs on the one hand that the airline person was using to point where they should go.
At this point, I really wished for a) psychic powers b)WWE on my hotline. Imagine how enjoyable this scenario would be if I could wish for some brawny character from WWE to appear. He would then proceed to latch on the imbeciles in front of me, specifically their head or ponytail, and repeatedly bang it on the check-in counter. The counter is made of pure titanium, which will not only make the CSI's job easy, but would provide a lovely elastic trampoline for the crushed skulls to bounce back from. Hulk Hogan would then whoop, tear off his clothes, perform sundry antics that are not seen outside the primate enclosure in a local zoo, and disappear in a poof to mete a similar treatment to his drug-addicted kids.
I would be so happy.
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