Airport internet access is extortionate! No time for spell check.
Relations are strained at most. A night in the London Gatwick Sofitel is only fun if you have the budget to take advantage of room service and pay-per-view porn or the desire to shag on a very soft bed. If you're a pair of broke ex-friends, you'll just watch Shrek, drink wine and play air hockey (I won, of course). The sexual tension is rife though - I guess love switches off better than attraction.
I'm sat in the departure lounge watching planes saunter past as he buries himself in a book. Have only had one small breakdown regarding him preferring to be here with someone else. But the day is young.
It's ok - no man will be attracted to me once I've gorged myself on complimentary madeira cake within inches of my life. Must scurry to grab a stack of magazines... will talk again from the other side of the Atlantic...
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