Two minutes in and Pam Ann confirmed what I'd always secretly suspected: Not only do air stewardesses despise us all but they actually go out of their way to make our journey as uncomfortable as possible.
Meet Pam Ann. She's from the flight school according to Kath and Kim. She's Australian, kitsch and bitchy as hell.
As our own special air stewardess for the one-and-a-half-hour journey from hell, Ann mixed biting, observational humour with pointed audience participation.
She split the audience into classes and heaven help you if you were in economy!
Those of us unfortunate enough not to be seated in business class were only saved by the realisation that a large proportion of the audience were real-life cabin crew.
You were in trouble if you were from the sartorial-free zone that is EasyJet. To be fair, it was like shooting fish in a barrel orange tracksuits anyone?
Ann ensured the hapless bunch knew their place in the pecking order and that, unlike their glamorous BA counterparts, not only are they destined to fly from Luton forever but their destination will probably be Newcastle.
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