Home
So I've been to Spain for a week with a guy I met on Match.com (that's a story of its own by the way).
So Monday evening we get to the airport for the flight back to Manchester. We get through security into the waiting area and once I've filled up with duty free Pepsi and Twirls, we take a seat.
Almost immediately I notice a very strange man. No, not my date, but a 40-50 year old Asian man wearing a thick woollen suit over a jumper. It's at least 80 degrees outside and not much cooler in the airport.
Even worse, there appears to be a bulge around his chest and upper stomach. So either he's got a massive misshapen knob or he's got something strapped around his chest.
And to add to the weirdo vibe he's giving out, he's walking around the airport with a slight limp and talking to himself. He appears to be alone, although if someone was with him you'd not expect them to advertise that fact.
Within minutes I'd pegged him as a terrorist. So how had he gotten through security with something strapped around his chest? Hadn't the thick woollen suit tipped off the security at the airport? Or had they been distracted searching the 6 year old with a soft toy?
So I'm praying he's not on my flight. But, of course, several flights leave and he's still wandering round the airport mumbling to himself. Again I pray that he's either missed his flight or is simply the airport weirdo. Predictably he shuffles towards my flight when it's announced it's time to board.
So now I'm torn. Do I alert the authorities to the fact that Osama Bin Laden's nutcase brother is about to board a flight to Manchester with a bomb strapped to his chest, but run the risk of being branded a racist with a grudge against care-in-the-community. Or do fuck all and hope the bomb is really his misshapen knob.
So, being very British, I kept my mouth shut and we boarded the plane.
And, even more predictably, once he'd shuffled up and down the aisle five times, twice sitting in the wrong seat, he ended up in the row directly in front of us. Bloody typical, I'll be the first to go if it's a bomb, and the first to be covered in his juice should his knob go off.
So for 3 hours I just sat there shitting myself. Every time he moved I was expecting a cry of Allahu Akbar followed by a bright light. Thankfully it never came. And neither did he.
Would you have done the same in my situation, or was it my duty to report him to the authorities no matter how unlikely it was he was a terrorist?
So Monday evening we get to the airport for the flight back to Manchester. We get through security into the waiting area and once I've filled up with duty free Pepsi and Twirls, we take a seat.
Almost immediately I notice a very strange man. No, not my date, but a 40-50 year old Asian man wearing a thick woollen suit over a jumper. It's at least 80 degrees outside and not much cooler in the airport.
Even worse, there appears to be a bulge around his chest and upper stomach. So either he's got a massive misshapen knob or he's got something strapped around his chest.
And to add to the weirdo vibe he's giving out, he's walking around the airport with a slight limp and talking to himself. He appears to be alone, although if someone was with him you'd not expect them to advertise that fact.
Within minutes I'd pegged him as a terrorist. So how had he gotten through security with something strapped around his chest? Hadn't the thick woollen suit tipped off the security at the airport? Or had they been distracted searching the 6 year old with a soft toy?
So I'm praying he's not on my flight. But, of course, several flights leave and he's still wandering round the airport mumbling to himself. Again I pray that he's either missed his flight or is simply the airport weirdo. Predictably he shuffles towards my flight when it's announced it's time to board.
So now I'm torn. Do I alert the authorities to the fact that Osama Bin Laden's nutcase brother is about to board a flight to Manchester with a bomb strapped to his chest, but run the risk of being branded a racist with a grudge against care-in-the-community. Or do fuck all and hope the bomb is really his misshapen knob.
So, being very British, I kept my mouth shut and we boarded the plane.
And, even more predictably, once he'd shuffled up and down the aisle five times, twice sitting in the wrong seat, he ended up in the row directly in front of us. Bloody typical, I'll be the first to go if it's a bomb, and the first to be covered in his juice should his knob go off.
So for 3 hours I just sat there shitting myself. Every time he moved I was expecting a cry of Allahu Akbar followed by a bright light. Thankfully it never came. And neither did he.
Would you have done the same in my situation, or was it my duty to report him to the authorities no matter how unlikely it was he was a terrorist?
