It was lunch, if I can risk describing it thus on a plane 40,000 feet above the Atlantic.
Having quite enjoyed my chicken and asparagus, I looked across the aisle where a fellow passenger was about to tuck in to what seemed like a world record attempt at a jelly.
“I’ll have one of those” I said to the hostess.
Discreetly, she pointed out that my vision of what I thought was a truly irresistible blancmange, was actually the gentlemen’s gut wedged up against and sprawling all over his fold-out table.
Amused, not a little put out and most certainly put off, I ordered a few grapes.
Preferably just like his gut.