Dick To The Rescue

By Todd Maguire on April 18, 2012 in Other

“Hello sir, how may I help you?”

The clean-cut sales assistant at the Dick Smith store was all smiles when he saw the stress and agitation on my face. It had been an extremely long, testing day and here was the man who would answer my prayers and make life bearable again.

As a frequent flyer for the purpose of work, my hour-long flight gave me the chance to relax and reflect on the task ahead or the mission I may have just accomplished. I had a set routine that I followed religiously. I would book my window seat on the Internet at home, and experience had taught me to be the last passenger to get on the flight. This meant less time sitting waiting for the captain to kick over the engine of the vessel.

Unfortunately, on the afternoon in question my procedure had backfired. My tardiness in getting to my flight had allowed a woman to slip under my guard and snake my window seat. She was a whole lot of woman with parts of her hefty body spilling over into the seat next to her. Rather than cause a fuss, I managed to slip into the row ahead, which offered two vacant seats, one of them a window seat. I smiled as I had surely kicked a goal – or so I thought.

I settled back into my new seat and, having come off the night shift, struggled to stay awake. As the plane taxied to its take-off spot it was a battle to keep my eyes open. But things soon went downhill.

As the flight crew‘s safety demonstration finished, the seat thief behind me kicked into top gear. In a booming and bubbly voice she proceeded to introduce herself to her fellow passengers. I was jolted from my half conscious state as her voice competed with the two Boeing jet engines just outside my window.

As the plane left the Mascot tarmac, I was sure this woman would run out of steam. I was wrong. The two joy boys sitting next to her worked in the same work: health and wellbeing. The three of them hit it off straight away, openly and loudly discussing their common interests: star signs, meditation techniques, vegetarian dieting and yoga poses.

According to the three dingbats everything was fantastic and awesome and spiritual. Unfortunately this positive energy was not rubbing off onto me. I was dog-tired and I was ropable. The three stooges would not let up.

I was tempted to give them some grief, or even shout them a sandwich to shut them up. Instead I donned my headphones for some personal music pleasure, but not even the gravelly voice of Bon Scott could drown these pests out. Eventually I gave up, took my headphones off and unceremoniously reefed them onto the spare seat next to me.

A businessman a couple of seats away who had been feverishly tapping away at his laptop the whole flight had pity for me. He saw me cast aside my headphones and offered me his set to test.

“Hey mate, try these. They are noise cancelling headphones – perfect for times like this,” he said, nodding toward the root of my problem in the seat behind.

I hurriedly attached the set to my music player, flicked the magic switch and was suddenly in another world. There was no chubby woman talking rubbish with her two sidekicks and no roaring jet engine – it was just me and AC/DC ripping into some circa 1976 ‘Bad Boy Boogie’.

The plane landed and I resisted giving the three clods a gobful of abuse. Instead, I asked for the woman’s ‘health and wellbeing’ business card. She offered it gladly as I shot back a cheap remark.

“Thank you. I have this mind-numbing headache from all that talk of yours on the flight. Hopefully you can tend to my crippling ailment one day.”

I gave her no chance to respond, throwing my bag over my shoulder and miraculously squeezing past her lump of a body to the safety of the tarmac. Home had never looked so good as I made a quick detour via Dick Smith’s electronics store. One hundred dollars for a pair of noise cancelling headphones was some of the best money I have ever spent.

Thank you Dick Smith, I can’t wait to fly again.