My Singapore weekend officially started when the boarding lady, Tracy, asked me whether I was just stopping over in Singapore on my way to Indonesia. I told her no, not this time.
This time I was flying to Singapore to spend the weekend with my best friends.
She then moved my seat so that I didn’t seat 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 rugby little league to Singapore.
I would take one crying baby over twenty unshowered, hormone-driven teenage boys who are traveling somewhere to compete. F&@#!