For the last few weeks I have had freedom – freedom from assignments, textbooks and endless hours studying in order to gain a post-graduate teaching qualification.
And during those wonderful weeks of freedom I have had time to reflect upon a life once lived. And a good life it was. Flying around the world, partying in Paris, having slings in Singapore and lunching in LA.
But as the saying goes; all good things must come to an end. And so with wings clipped and and a life now lived with feet firmly planted on the ground, I thought a flying photo essay (the type of essay I prefer) was in order.
Here is how the dictionary defines Karma: the sum of a person’s actions in this and previous states of existence: viewed as deciding their fate in future existences…
With that being said, it’s important to remember how our behaviour could come back and bite hard in our ‘future existence’.
For one gentleman who had hoped to spend some time in NYC recently, karma certainly bared its teeth and took a big chunk out of his plans and probably his pride.
A friend who was operating on his flight said the gentleman (loosely termed: cough, splutter) in question boarded and proceeded to complain. The food wasn’t hot enough the drinks weren’t cold enough, the service wasn’t good enough the cabin temperature wasn’t right, ah the list went on and on.
Apparently no amount of kindness, service or helpful advice seemed to appease this bothersome man.
So in the end the crew let him rant to his heart’s content, as after all, on arrival in New York they would politely say goodbye, retreat to their 5-star hotel in downtown NYC, and never set eyes on him again.
But they were wrong. They did see him again and this time they were quite pleased to see him doing what he obviously thought he did best: complain!
And his complaint?
Just two little words the steel-faced customs agent had swiftly slapped onto the gentleman’s passport. And those words?
p.s. Thanks (RB) a very special and very lovely friend who told me this tale. 🙂