Mediocre offerings too tough to digest

HUMOUR: An excerpt from the much-anticipated Diary of a Foreign Minister, by the fictional Bridget Carr:

I leaned back in the uncomfortable business class seat of the aircraft, the indigestible plane meal a steaming mess in front of me, and I longed for the taste of steel-cut organic oats with berries and poached eggs.

After hours spent conversing with my international peers, including Barack Obama and Vladimir Putin, not to drop names or anything, I thought I would at least have a first-class flight to look forward to.

But no. It was to be the dreaded drudgery of business class again.

Emerging from my musings, I squinted at the screen in front of me as the opera I had selected to wile away a few hours started to play. Alas, I saw there were no English subtitles.

"Darn it!" I cried out, bringing air stewards running from all directions, "what kind of third world flight is this that I would be expected to sit through two hours of incredible opera with no English translation?!"

A burly bilingual German man was found and my new friend sat by me, offering a mediocre interpretation of what was unfolding on the screen in front of us.

When the opera was at its end, I summoned the air steward again.

"Now where are my in-flight jim jams?" I demanded.

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