My Singapore weekend officially started when the SQ boarding officer, Tracy, asked me whether I was stopping in Singapore on my way to Indonesia. No, not this time. I was flying to Singapore to spend the weekend with my best friends, I told Tracy.
She then moved my seat, so I didn’t sit near the children’s area on the flight.
I thanked her profoundly. There’s nothing worse than sitting near crying babies on a flight. Lucky me! Or so I thought. But not so much. Apparently, I would be flying with a little rugby league to Singapore.
I would take one crying baby over twenty unshowered, hormone-driven teenage boys travelling somewhere to compete. F&@#!
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