During a very recent trip to the UK I had to bring a very large collection of music CD's with me (don't ask why
) - all mine, all originals. I filled a small suitcase with them - literally filled, all in cd racks, protected by a large beach towel.
I was 'pulled' at the first security check - I assumed the X-ray machine guy couldn't work out what the hell was in the case. He called a young airport lady of stunning looks over to quiz me.
"Please open" she said, with eyes that could melt you. I opened the case, peeled back the beach towel to expose my wares.
"Oh my God" she said. I smiled back to her in a "I may be old enough to be your dad but there's fire in the old boy yet" way.
"What cd's is it?"
"Lots of different sorts"
Leaning closer to me, and with the sweetest, quiet voice she asked "p0rno?"
"No! not p0rno!"
"p0rno? p0rno?" she asked.
"No! Music!"
She turned to the X-ray guy (about 5m away) and shouted "p0rnO YOK - MUZIK!" before removing one of the CD's to show him.
It was at this time, when my smile had long gone, with embarrassment quickly replacing it, that I was grateful that her spoken English was better than her reading of English - no word of a lie, the CD she had selected to show Mr X-ray man had just 3 words on the front, in bright red: "STIFF LITTLE FINGERS".
Once allowed to go, I did feel better when I thought that I may be 42, bald and fat, but beautiful young ladies still like to talk dirty with me.
