Ryanair keep sending emails about an upcoming flight that each time reminds Maxine that she paid for extra leg room.
Self-flagellation is key to a healthy sex life.
Checked out of the hotel and a white image appears in the distance, a ski center?
“I can use a ski lift” she thought. “Girls got good grip” and before she knows it, is at the top of the slope before she can remember how to get down.
Another case of confidence over competence.
The litmus test to snowboarding proficiency is the ski lift. Stopping the Ski lift only once = proficient. Stopping half way up but taking a random kid back down with you = expert.
This particular ski centre insists on lessons before going out onto the slope unless you can prove you can use the ski lift. Maxine is disgruntled by this money making racquet and rather than pay to take a lesson thought she’d go for it, soon forgetting that falling on snow is pleasant but this wasn’t snow this was Gloucester. In lieu of snow they wet white plastic. Wet bristles held together with metal webbing underneath which landing on at high speeds necessitated Maxine drinking Carling at 11am. Thee end.
majorloveme 