Flight from Amsterdam to Heathrow

Well, this promises to be a memorable flight because Richard spilt his cup of coffee on me. The whole, just-filled, to the brim, cup of coffee. In our home items often break and there are many spillages because quite frankly he is extremely clumsy. In fact, beverage spilling on a plane has occurred before. Only that time there were no casualties and it was only water that seemed to stream along the aisle of the plane. Really, when you think about it, I probably shouldn't be sitting next to him at all. Now, I must say I did handle it pretty well, expecially as I was soaked through to my underwear. In the plane's bathroom I washed the stickiness off my skin as well as I could, but there was nothing I could do about my soaked pants. I walked back to my seat, that the airhostess had kindly wiped down, the discomfort of wet clothing plain upon my face. Well, I said, when I get to Heathrow I will buy some new clothes. Designer Wear, I pointedly told him. So appeased by this I sat back for the rest of the journey, which luckily wasn't too long. For the rest of the flight Richard insisted that I somehow bumped him!! And he with the reputation of the clumsy. I asked him if he had ever had a feeling in his hand, and itch when a hand wants to deliver a smart slap.
At Heathrow I wandered through the shops, but could find no casual clothing. Everything really was Designer Wear, and even I baulked at paying 300 pound for a top! The only saving grace was that my pants were Kathmandu cargo's suitable for hiking and most importantly - Quick Dry. My underwear didn't feel as bad as I thought it had been, and it was just the bottom of my Tshirt that was wet, and by now damp. I resigned myself to staying in the clothing I was in, even though the next leg was eleven hours to LA. Now I had to do something about the coffee smell. I absolutely reeked. I started to listen to people's conversations to see if I could overhear them saying, what is that smell? Pwoah, someone really reeks! It smells like coffee. So, to the duty free perfumerie I went, where I liberally sprayed all manner of floral, exotics and citrus on me. I noticed one of the salesman was watching me and I felt obliged to tell him about my predicament. He produced a unisex perfume (Calvin Klein I think?), something containing vanilla and ohmbre, whatever that is. I have to say, the vanilla went quite well with the coffee smell! Then, to my amazement, I listened to Richard, who had suddenly appeared in the shop, telling the sales guy that it was me who had bumped him!!!!! The itchy hand was back......