Snorting Crack at 30,000 Feet

Just before our plane was scheduled to land at Heathrow, my sinuses got so bad that I thought my eyes were going to explode. My brain was like a steadily inflating ballon — I could even hear the rubber stretching sounds — pressing pins into the backs of my eyes.

Fortunately, my eyes did not explode; however, I did get a serious nose bleed instead. And to make this matter worse, shortly after it started the pilot announced that we would be held in a circling pattern for a further 15 minutes before landing. And my nose was bleeding, bleeding.

At first, the peppy American hostess seemed at a loss as to what to do with me — then she spied the opportunity for comic relief.

"I told you," she said, louder than she needed to, "You've got to stop snorting crack!"

This was quite funny the first time, and the second time she said it I just shrugged and thought, Well, when you're onto a goodie, you may as well repeat it for those who missed it the first time.

When she rolled it out a third time, however, I started to wonder just how much crack she was snorting.