The airport and the twat

Just to let everyone know...I am not stupid. Daft - yes, stupid - no.Anyway....last Tuesday my girlfriend (L), was arriving back at Manchester airport after a short break in Denmark.

She thought I was going to meet her at Liverpool Lime Street, but on Thursday morning I woke and thought it would nice if I met her at the airport.The flight wasn't due in until 6:30pm, I arrived at the airport at 5pm, at least 90 minutes to kill. So I got to the arrivals lounge, bought myself a barely drinkable vanilla latte, sat down and read my book.

The flight arrived early, only 5 minutes mind, so once I noticed the flight had landed I made my way from the coffee place down to the rails.

Everything was going OK.....

Stood there for fucking ages....

No sign of her or her sister (K).

Tried calling her, but it rang and went to answerphone. I thought she must be waiting for her baggage. So i continued to wait.....

.....and wait

until the flight status disappeared form the screen.....fuck.

Managed to get through to her on her phone......
(Me) Hey! Where are ya?
(L) I'm on the train
(Me) Fuck!!!
(L) Where are you? Are you still in Carlisle?
(Me) No. Guess again.
(L) Manchester airport?
(Me) Bingo!
(L) Hahahahaha

I was fucking raging with myself. Fair enough, one one of them could've possibly slipped past....but the two of them. I sat very quietly on the train to Manchester airport, as my blood boiled. I was not happy.

I felt like a right twat.