And the Flying Turkey Goes To....

  You mustn't think I gain any pleasure from giving Flying Turkey Travel Awards - or not much anyway. Well all right, some. But sometimes when I travel, a clear winner presents him/her/itself and, well, what is there to do?
  This story really starts yesterday morning, the day hubby and I were due to fly to Washington for a conference.  When I should have been packing, I was up a ladder in a murderous rage, zapping the caterpillars on our beautiful oak tree with a futile little bottle of spray. I just had to do something, even if it felt like Custer's Last Stand. I despatched a few of them, which gave me some small satisfaction but then decided that I would not be much use to hubby as a travel companion if I fell off the ladder and broke my neck. So I was not in the best of moods.
  Anyway, we were standing in the security line at Buffalo airport when the impatient chap behind me quite blatantly jumped the queue, plonking his bags down ahead of mine. I must say that most American men I meet are extremely polite - it's "Ma'am" this and "Ma'am" that but sadly it appears there are still some who think they can walk all over flustered middle-aged ladies in the security queue. Well he picked the wrong middle-aged lady to mess with. Since he was now holding me up, I put my bags back in front of his, reminding him that he'd jumped the queue. There followed an unpleasant tirade about how rude I was, how he had a plane to catch ("We've all got a plane to catch or we wouldn't be in this dratted queue", I suggested), how I was "taking forever" (not true- we'd both been held up by the man in front who was trying to bring what looked like a pressurised corkscrew onto the plane) how his flight was leaving before mine (he assumed), implying his journey was far more important than mine, etc. I'm afraid I just told him to shut up. Pity the caterpillar spray wasn't to hand.
   He did look rather pathetic, acting the big businessman flying to New York City. It made me wonder what he was doing in Buffalo.  Anyway, if he'd only explained nicely in the first place that he was in a hurry and did I mind awfully if he went in front of me, I would have been all sweetness and light but he did not. The Americans have a nice four-letter word for people like him and it begins with "j" and ends with "k". The Flying Turkey goes to you Sir, with pleasure. Travelling really does bring out the worst in people. Including me.