Okay, so I was on the plane. Boeing 737 800 for you plane geeks. Little entertainment centres on the backs of the chairs.
There was this woman in front of me who was taking advantage of the fabulous world of entertainment which Qantas offers to its customers. She was listening to the collected works of ABBA.
I certainly didn’t mind, in fact my mother and I were singing along, as we have a little soft spot for ABBA. We were happily having a wee sing-song to ‘Knowing Me, Knowing You’ and discussing the merits of plane karaoke (it would be LEGENDARY) when weird singing lady turns around and says.
“I’m a singer in New Zealand.”
I nodded and smiled, with the possum-in-the-headlights look of someone who has encountered a crazy person in a confined space, with nowhere to run. She turned back around and I thought I was safe. My mum and I burst into silent laughter.
About ten minutes later, after the initial shock had worn off and we had returned to normality (well, as much normality as can be expected), she turned around again and handed me a CD.
She just happened to have one on her is what gets me. She carries around copies of her CDs for exactly this situation. Smart, I guess, we might have been on the board of directors for Tower Records.
It was a well made CD cover-insert-slip-thingy… considering it was probably made on Word 2003.
First track was ‘God of Nation.’ Second track was ‘Downtown’ by Petula Clark.
Think about it: “God de-fend New Ze-ea-laaaaand…” … “When you’re alone and life is making you lonely you can always go. DOWNTOWN.”
Also she wasn’t a good singer at all.