Refusing the most expensive coffee

Ah, life in the civilised world ... bless! I hope you have not been away from Nigeria too long to have lost the irony of today's ranting post!

• "On any given day, I’ll rather have the service I paid for than the compensation and if you must compensate it should be for the inconvenience I have suffered with my qualified input into the negotiations and an act of genuine contrition, feel some pain and make me happy"

1. Duh!

2. Get the service you pay for? (My generator just went on, NEPA just took light, we paid our bill on Tuesday)

3. Compensation, adequate or not? HA HA HA!

In our part of the world, homey..shit happens. We ask why, but we don't get answers, let alone informative ones ("your train is delayed because.."), and while you're here complaining, have a coffee on us.

In Nigeria, the scenario would have played like this: First, it'd be the airport. no rail system. Second, your flight would have been delayed indefinitely.

Tickets for said flight would still continue to be sold by the airline. Hours would roll by. you'd eventually get hungry and buy a meatpie or a similarly yuckety yuck coffee.

Eventually, although there would have been no prior announcement, you'd notice a desperate line forming. You'd remain seated, confident that you had your boarding pass and seat # in your pocket, although this being Nigeria, you'd double check.

You'd look at your watch, stretch out your legs, decide there was no point taking your newspaper with you as you'd read it 3 times over already, pick up your jacket and laptop, and walk unhurriedly to the line, really, just to get a feel of what was going on.

Your irritation to find your plane was indeed being boarded (even though there'd been no announcement) would pass in a flash ... you'd be relieved that at least the plane was leaving for its destination.

By the way, you'd have missed the meeting by now, but you had other things to do in the town, catch up with an old colleague, visit a bookstore for a particular book ...

Anyway, being 6 ft tall, easily 3 inches above everybody else, you would see that there were oh, about 30 people ahead of you, but no problem, right?

You'd pat your shirt pocket to feel your ticket and boarding pass, just to reassure yourself -- a bit like when you were little and carried the dog eared pocket sized stuffed monkey Curious George everywhere you went.

You'd notice a curious thing, the airline attendant, seeming to count heads. 'Ey, 'ey, what's this?' could she be counting heads to fill the seats, regardless of whether one has a boarding pass or not? she couldn't, could she?

Suddenly, you are no longer so confident. You wish, grown man that you are, Curious George was there to make you feel better. But he's not, and you are grown, so instead, you loosen your tie bit and keep moving in the line.

Ah, the attendant is walking toward you. phew, you are one of the lucky ones,you will get on the flight. But, 'ey 'ey, whats this? she's stopped counting 2 people ahead of you.. "The plane is full", she announces.

"The rest of you will take the next flight". Incredulous, and in an adrenaline rush, you rudely push past her, rush through the metal detector, run out on to the tarmac (this is Nigeria, after all {although it could be Gatwick), ignoring shouts of "Sah, Sah!".

You rush to the plane steps and find yourself pleading with the airline official to let you get on the flight. He looks at your face. You are tired and hungry and goddamit, desperate.

'Alright sir, welcome aboard'. You say thanks, and are annoyed with yourself for seeming so grateful. You do, after all, have a boarding pass in your pocket.