In which I was an evil genius

As I’ve established before….rules really annoy me.

And people who put banal, boring rules above FUN – or even, more frustratingly, basic COMMON SENSE – really wind me up the wrong way.

I remember once trying to flirt with this guy I liked the look of in a pub. I was doing a pub quiz with friends and he was at the bar ordering a round – alone and vulnerable – at just the right point: the point at which a truly blokey question came up, and my girls and I were stumped.

In which I was an evil genius

Someone here has made the age-old error of confusing Ian Botham with MLK…classic mistake

I sidled up to him at the bar, batted my eyelashes, and asked sweetly if he knew the answer. You know, playing to his male pride.

His response?

“It’s a quiz. I’m not allowed to tell you.”

He wasn’t even bloody playing! He was just there drinking with his mates!

Boys, just so you know: following pub quiz rules as if your very LIFE depended on them and they were the most sacrosanct treaty on planet EARTH = soooo sexy.

In which I was an evil genius

Anyway, my favourite example of successfully flouting life’s rules was an incident in an airport. I cited this on Facebook as my proudest moment of my life so far, and it remains so today.

I was flying abroad from London Gatwick with a couple of friends and had managed to squeeze everything into one hand luggage case.

You know when you try and fit everything in one tiny suitcase so you don’t have to check any bags in, but then you realise you’re not allowed over 100ml of toiletries so it’s a total false economy and you have to buy a truckload of shampoo, conditioner, body lotion, mouthwash and sun cream in the overpriced departures lounge shops and then lug it around the airport? Yeah, that.

So – in the queue to board our flight – I had my leetil suitcase stuffed full to bursting and then a few remaining bits and bobs I’d bought in the airport Boots in a plastic bag.

When I reached the front of the boarding queue I was met with a tight-lipped: “You’re only allowed one piece of hand luggage madam.”

1. Don’t call me madam, you make me feel about 72.

2. The rules don’t apply to MOI!

In which I was an evil genius

I don’t just behave like Miss Piggy

In which I was an evil genius

There’s also a strong physical resemblance

“Really??” I protested. “I bought this stuff in your airport…plus it won’t take up any room. I’ll just have it at my feet or something.”

“Sorry MADAM. You are only allowed ONE piece of hand luggage so either fit it all in your suitcase or you’ll have to leave it behind.”

Then a moment of utter genius washed over me. It was a thought so deliciously brilliant that the bustle of the airport seemed to slow down around me.

I reached for my plastic bag of shampoo and sun cream and placed it theatrically on top of my head.

“If it was a HAT you’d let me take it on!” I declared.

The flight attendant looked at me like I was the most evil genius she’d ever encountered….and ushered me and my hat through onto the plane.

And off we did STRUT.

I take my (plastic bag) hat off to anyone willing to try this too.

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