KLM STAFF IS SMART, SO I AM HAPPY TO GO..

I am standing at 08am at Amsterdam’s airport (Schiphol), waiting for my flight to Manchester.

I watch all around those gorgeous, tall, Dutch Gods who are carrying trays of beer and French chips for… breakfast !!! 

I am thinking to go against this very healthy trend and buy some fruits and yogurt so as to demonstrate all about “healthy morning diet”, but then I reconsider when I see the prices: 

Five euros for five berries of grapes and two pieces of melon in a plastic cup which all that is called "fruit-shake".

For a while I started dreaming of my little cute and chip country (Greece), where I can buy huge piles of oranges with just a few euros.

I pay overall 8 euros while I know that I should push myself and drink my whole bottle of water before I board on the plane. 

Meanwhile, a Dutch guy who is sitting next to me, is watching the airplanes flying, while leaking his fingers. 

This must be a Dutch thing (leaking own fingers) while watching or discussing something interesting, because I remember myself sitting next to a Dutch guy around the tables of the European Commission (where I was working) and watching him leaking his fingers after he has finished eating his strawberries. 

I even remember his name - Mark. He was upgraded a few months later, probably because he managed to attract our Director's attention? 

The KLM airplane arrived on time and I boarded with the delight of the traveler and the brief prayer that I always do inside me, every time I board a plane.

I found my seat next to the Dutch fat guy with the greasy hair and the big huge orange glasses. 

"Are you Brittish?" he asked me and that was when I have realized with horror that he was stinking alcohol. 

"No!" I replied sharply. 

"Then you are Dutch." 

"No"

"You go to Manchester for a job;"

I have thrown at him a murdering look that made him swallow his tongue for a few seconds before he got despaired and starts singing: «No woman, no cry ... No woman, no cryyy ...!!".

At the beginning I smiled (I found amusing the whole scene) and I did not feel any fear; not even when he pulled the tassel of hashish from his right pocket. 

I freaked out though, when, at the time the plane was running on the runway ready to takeoff, the Dutch guy took out of his pocket a box with matches and tried to light a match ...

With a swift move that I myself marveled, plunged him into the arm: «What are you doing?» I said strictly and raising the volume of my voice. Quite a few passengers turned their heads, but the most of them stayed up, in their own planet...

"Leave me alone!" he shouted, and continued to try to light the match ... 

"I said, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" I said, louder this time ...

The flight attendant (that was another gorgeous male Dutch God) heard us, he sent a message to stop the plane, got free from his seating and ran towards us. 

"What is happening here;" he asked, but glancing over the fat man and the matches he was holding in his hands he understood right the way "what was happening".

“Does this Lady bother you, Sir?” he said, throwing me a meaningful look which I understood right the way... 

(the great KLM has the smartest staff; well done!!). 

The fat (apparently drunk and loving matches guy) immediately replied: "Yes! She grabbed my arm! Twice! ".

"I understand," the attendant replied with pretentious understanding. "The lady might be nervous today… Would you like to sit back with me then and swap seats with another Gentleman?" he said giving me another meaningful look.. 

"Yes, yes, I would love that!!," the fat drunk guy replied and looked at me in a way saying “ha, you stupid Bitch, I'm leaving you!!!”.

Then he got up to sit in the back seat, while I, behind his back, did a gesture of gratitude to the Intelligent Dutch God who was wearing the uniform of a flight attendant....