Now I never attended finishing school and wouldn't engage in a debate as to which utensil to use to eat grapes, but I was left wondering the other night if even the most basic manners were no longer taught to young Aussies.
(Please do not take this post as too serious or elitist ... that is apart from the health and safety issue left on the carpet of Meeting Room 1 ...)
The scene was the Melbourne F lounge prior to the departure of QF9. I arrived in the lounge with ample time for a quiet dinner followed a spa treatment before my flight. I was seated in the restaurant by the window with a nice view. While I was perusing the menu, I noticed that the man seated at the table next to me was talking on his phone. It wasn't an important-work- or phone-the-kids-at-bedtime-type conversation, just a conversation with someone.
I ordered, he was still talking. My entree arrived ... still talking. I finished my entree ... still talking. My main course arrived ... still talking. At this point, the waiter who must have been politely waiting for him to finish the call, started just delivering his food. His conversational rhythm hardly changed, as he ate while continuing to listen and talk. It was disgustingly amusing to watch someone chew and talk at the same time over such an extended period. By this point, everyone else close by was watching as well. Just as I was finishing my main course, an older couple finally complained, and the waiter politely asked him to end his call. So I'll never know if he could also cut meat, chew, and talk on the phone at the same time.
I then had some time to relax before my spa treatment and went into the main lounge area. Relaxation was clearly going to be impossible there, though, as a group of 10-15 men were standing around drinking beer and cheering on the footy like they thought they were a their local pub.
No worries, I thought after a few loud whoops, I'll go into a meeting room, where it's usually a bit quieter. The lounge angel booked me into Meeting Room 2, and I took out my gadgets to do a bit of work. Then I met Charlotte and her parents, who in a practical sense were in Meeting Room 1, but were so loud I heard every word of their conversation like they were sitting next to me. I take it Charlotte was the first child, as the parents oohed and awed at seemingly her every breath. And things were pleasant enough as I learned about all their friends, upcoming social commitments, etc.
Then, Charlotte did a poo. Mummy suggested that Charlotte lie down on the floor (the Marc Newson designed carpet, no less ...) so that Mummy could change her nappy. Charlotte was having none of this (perhaps she knew even at this early stage of her life that this event is what baby change rooms are designed for?) and started howling. Eventually, things calmed down, and Daddy then emerged from the meeting room into the main lounge area holding the nappy in question. Not in a bag or anything, just in his hands. He headed off in the direction of the bathrooms, so clearly the ability to read signs was not an issue for the couple. Perhaps he washed his hands while he was there, but Mummy clearly didn't feel the need to do so herself. After visions of them changing Charlotte's nappy on the onboard tray table, I was so relieved when the family departed for Auckland and were clearly not on my flight.
I don't know how often the carpets in the lounge get cleaned, so I would be wary of Meeting Room 1 if you are visiting any time soon!
There was a lot of fuss when Qantas introduced the no-thongs-in-the-lounge rule, but I ponder should they go further? "When you're flying with us, your health and safety is our number one concern. Please defecate only in designated areas, which are clearly marked with a symbol of a man, woman, or baby. Suitable receptacles are provided in each designated area ..."
