The poor man across the aisle from me has drawn an unfortunate lot this evening. Due to the- erm- rotund nature of the man beside him, he has been forced to overhang his binderful of legal documentation into the aisle in order to work. This leaves him open to constant collisions from the overly keen trolley guy who has clearly not met his daily quota of KitKat and lager sales.
It wouldn't have been so bad for him if Señor Rotundo had not been snoring at a decibel level that would require unionised workers to have been issued with protective equipment. Señor Rotundo is wearing a wedding ring. Either his wife is deaf or he sleeps on the sofa.
Working Guy caught my astonished stare and asked if I had a marking pen. Seemed a shame not to draw on Señor Rotundo's face, really. Alas, we were not properly equipped so Working Guy had to amuse himself by rolling cigarettes with his twitching fingers. Another example of a quiet evening spent devising ways of smothering the guy snoring away contendly next to you...
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