Sunday, March 30, 2003
The Italian Job
After Friday's fog-bound fiasco, I thought I had everything sorted. I'd extracted an apology from Sabine at Lufthansa. And, more importantly, a ticket back to Berlin in time for Christopher Street Day in June. In fact, I was feeling so smug with myself I was even getting on my own nerves.
I'd obviously got on Alberto's nerves too. Alberto is an Italian, working for the German national airline, in its call centre in Dublin. Alberto does not like me. Alberto so much does not like me that he said Sabine had got it all wrong. Alberto said I might not even get my money back. Alberto said he was sorry. Alberto said there was nothing more he could do.
Alberto and the Invisible Stranger are now officially at war. It will be a short campaign. It will be distinguished by pin-point-precision bombing by letters written in poisonous green ink. There may be casualties along the way. Sabine and Alberto for starters. But the outcome is certain.
Oh, I am sooooo going to enjoy this one…