Have you ever laughed and wished you could stop laughing? I am not talking about a smiggle (cross between a smile and a giggle) I mean stomach twitching, air gasping, helpless convulsions of laughter. Spasms grip as an outburst of guffaws threatens to never end. Awful isn’t it?
That is what happened to me and it was all Helen Fielding’s fault!
Never. I repeat, NEVER, read anything she writes on a plane.
I got on the plane and took my seat a little teary-eyed, having left my aged parents in the old country, to go home to my new country in the Frozen North.
To distract myself I picked up my Bridget Jones book. Big mistake! The man in the seat beside me is probably scarred for life. Halfway across the Atlantic ocean I get to the scene where Bridget opens Mark Darcy’s bedroom door. If I’d been alone I’d have enjoyed my LOL but trapped in a plane I tried to stop myself. I tried to stop all the guffawing, gasping, spasms, and convulsions. I hid the book behind the vomit bag! I didn’t dare even look at the cover! The fit lasted for an embarrassingly long time.
Now I read boring books and try to solve the evil Sudoku.
Never read comedy on a plane!