So, I’m in Sydney airport and I’m queueing for one of their internet terminals. They’re nowhere near as numerous as those at Changi (Singapore), and from my experience about 1/3 of them are broken. However, I’m in a queue so I do the English thing and queue.
As an aside, one thing I don’t understand is how aiports will provide free terminals at a cost of a couple of hundred quid each to themselves, or a sponsor. But they charge money for wireless, which costs a fraction of that to set up and administer. Cyercafes are the same. Use one of their PCs and it’s, say, NZ$2 per hour. Bring your own hardware and it’s twice that. Barmy.
Anyway, I was queueing for some time. These terminals are like rocking horse **** at this airport, and a working one is like rocking horse **** made out of solid gold. I actually have found golden rocking horse **** – in fact, it was golden rocking unicorn **** which is even rarer. You can find out all about it in the part-fictionalised version I sold to Hollywood last year – Indiana Jones and the Golden Rocking Unicorn Turd which is due out in summer 2008. We’re just waiting for Harrison Ford to complete work on some crappy rom-com.
I digress. Again.
Because of the queue length, I rapidly became aware of a need to poop. I couldn’t relinquish my queue place or I’d not get online before my flight. I clenched, I crossed my legs and I touched cloth on numerous occasions, but I finally got to check my email before running like hell to the toilet.
One guy was ahead of me and he proceeded to the only available cubicle. Where he had a piss.
Now, this bloke had no bulky luggage which would have given him an excuse for using a cubicle instead of a urinal. But, no. He had to lock himself in the only flipping trap so I was left hopping back and forth trying to convince the Turd of Doom to snake back into my intestinal tract ratgher than spread itself Marmite-like around my inner thighs.
Eventually, he came out and I crapped.
All I want to say is this – if you saw a guy in Sydney airport around 8:30am in the area of Gate 60, wearing a dark cap, red and white checky jacket, pale trousers, glasses and with a small lime green and white rucksack/daybag on his back – he has a really small penis, or at least trouble pissing in public near other people. Also, he didn’t wash his hands afterwards.