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  1. #1
    Usuario Foroaviones
    01 feb, 09

    Apretón a bordo

    Que hacer si te da un apretón a bordo de un avión pequeño?

    Relato novelado de un momento difícil.

    Brian Warner on July 5, 2013

    Before a company goes public, the highest level executives embark on a multi-city tour with their investment bankers to drum up support for the upcoming IPO. This trip is called a roadshow and since the group will typically visit dozens of cities on a tight schedule, a private jet is the preferred means of transportation. During a roadshow, it's not unusual to visit two or three cities in a single day so work starts at the crack of dawn. That doesn't mean the group goes to bed early. Every night, the bankers treat their clients to a wild night out in whatever town they are in, complete with thousand dollar dinners and endless alcohol. No matter how hard the group parties the night before, the private jet will lift them off to their next destination very early the next morning.

    Most Embarrassing Private Jet Flight
    Just for a minute, pretend you're an investment banker traveling with some very important clients on one of these roadshows. Now imagine that you spent the previous night drinking way beyond your limit only to be startled out of bed by a piercing 6:30 am wake up call. In an attempt to get your head and body feeling remotely human again, you scarf down some waffles, eggs, bacon and at least two glasses of coffee at the hotel's breakfast buffet before jumping on the shuttle to the private airport. Within a few minutes of arriving at the airport, your entire group is seated and the plane begins to taxi down the runway. At this point you might feel a bit of relief as the morning's blur subsides. All you have to do is sit back and relax for the one hour flight to the next city.

    There's just one problem. In your rush to get out of the hotel, down to breakfast and onto the plane you forgot to do one very crucial thing. Go to the bathroom. And I'm not talking about peeing. You have a stomach full of dinner, desert, drinks, eggs, waffles and coffee churning around your lower intestine at 30,000 feet. But that's not the worst part. True horror sets in when you realize you're not on a spacious 20 person G5 with couches, beds, lay-z boys and a fully tucked away private bathroom. No, on this day you are traveling on a six-person puddle jumper sitting shoulder to shoulder with your clients and co-workers. But wait, somehow the story gets even worse…

    Puddle Jumper Interior
    This following nightmare is a 100% fully verified true story. It that happened to a very unlucky investment banker who has asked to remain anonymous for obvious reasons. He sent the story in to the amazing satirical twitter page "Goldman Sachs Elevator" (@GSElevator) which you need to follow immediately if you aren't already. GSElevator was kind enough to let us re-post the full account of this incredible real life horror story below…

    The Most Embarrassing Private Jet Flight Of All Time:

    Just over halfway through the flight, all the coffee in my stomach feels like it's percolating its way down into my lower intestine. I hunker down and try and focus on other things. What feels like an hour, but probably isn't more than twenty minutes, passes. We then enter what turns out to be pretty violent turbulence. With each bounce, I have to fight my body, trying not to shit my pants. "Thirty minutes to landing, maybe forty five" I try and tell myself, each jostle a gamble I can't afford to lose. I signal to [the flight attendant] and she heads toward me.

    "Excuse me, where is the bathroom, because I don't see a door?" I ask while still devoting considerable energy to fighting off what starts to feel like someone shook a seltzer bottle and shoved it up my ass. She looks at me, bemused, and says, "Well, we don't really have one per se." She continues, "Technically, we have one, but it's really just for emergencies. Don't worry, we're landing shortly anyway."

    "I'm pretty sure this qualifies as an emergency," I manage to mutter through my grimace. I can see the fear in her face as she points nervously to the back seat. The turbulence outside is matched only by the cyclone that is ravaging my bowels. She points to the back of the plane and says, "There. The toilet is there." For a brief instant, relief passes over my face. She continues, "If you pull away the leather cushion from that seat, it's under there. There's a small privacy screen that pulls up around it, but that's it." At this point, I was committed. She had just lit the dynamite and the mine shaft was set to blow.

    I turn to look where she is pointing and I get the urge to cry. I do cry, but my face is so tightly clenched it makes no difference. The "toilet" seat is occupied by the CFO, i.e. our fucking client. Our fucking female fucking client!

    Up to this point, nobody has observed my struggle or my exchange with the flight attendant. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." That's all I can say as I limp toward her like Quasimodo impersonating a penguin, and begin my explanation. Of course, as soon as my competitors see me talking to the CFO, they all perk up to find out what the hell I'm doing.

    Given my jovial nature and fun-loving attitude thus far on the roadshow, almost everybody thinks I'm joking. She, however, knows right away that I am anything but and jumps up, moving quickly to where I had been sitting. I now had to remove the seat top – no easy task when you can barely stand upright, are getting tossed around like a hoodrat at a block party, and are fighting against a gastrointestinal Mt. Vesuvius.

    I manage to peel back the leather seat top to find a rather luxurious looking commode, with a nice cherry or walnut frame. It had obviously never been used, ever. Why this moment of clarity came to me, I do not know. Perhaps it was the realization that I was going to take this toilet's virginity with a fury and savagery that was an abomination to its delicate craftsmanship and quality. I imagined some poor Italian carpenter weeping over the violently soiled remains of his once beautiful creation. The lament lasted only a second as I was quickly back to concentrating on the tiny muscle that stood between me and molten hot lava.

    I reach down and pull up the privacy screens, with only seconds to spare before I erupt. It's an alka-seltzer bomb, nothing but air and liquid spraying out in all directions – a Jackson Pollock masterpiece. The pressure is now reversed. I feel like I'm going to have a stroke, I push so hard to end the relief, the tormented sublime relief.

    "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." My apologies do nothing to drown out the heinous noises that seem to carry on and reverberate throughout the small cabin indefinitely. If that's not bad enough, I have one more major problem. The privacy screen stops right around shoulder level. I am sitting there, a disembodied head, in the back of the plane, on a bucking bronco for a toilet, all while looking my colleagues, competitors, and clients directly in the eyes. "Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain!" briefly comes to mind.

    I literally could reach out with my left hand and rest it on the shoulder of the person adjacent to me. It was virtually impossible for him, or any of the others, and by others I mean high profile business partners and clients, to avert their eyes. They squirm and try not to look, inclined to do their best to carry on and pretend as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening, that they weren't sharing a stall with some guy crapping his intestines out. Releasing smelly, sweaty, shame at 100 feet per second.

    "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry" is all the ashamed disembodied head can say…over and over again. Not that it mattered.
    The Most Embarrassing Private Jet Flight Of All Time | Celebrity Net Worth
    Distinguir a un aerotrastornado es fácil, en medio de una multitud cuando oiga el sonido de un avión surcando los cielos. Levantara la mirada hasta establecer contacto visual con el avión, da igual el numero de veces que lo haya visto.

  2. #2
    Iron what?
    03 oct, 11
    Banyoles, Girona
    ajajajaja joder!!!
    Iron F***ing Maiden, this is what!

    "A mile of road will take you a mile, but a mile of runway can take you anywhere."

  3. #3
    Larva de troll foril
    07 ene, 08
    Buenísima descripción!!!

  4. #4
    el apreton es lo peor, yo una vez tuve que sacar la bolsa del bocadillo en un trayecto en tren sin wc, meterme entre dos vagones y soltar el muñeco, le hice un nudo a la bolsa y asunto arreglado, por suerte siempre llevo toallitas de wc, pero no deja de ser una situación en la que se suda y se pasa bastante mal... en un avión, piloto automático, bolsa de plastico, tohallitas y un buen ambientador...

  5. #5
    Usuario Foroaviones
    13 nov, 12
    Es para cagarse

    Alguien puede confirmar que hay aviones con un WC oculto bajo un asiento? xDDDDD

    PD: casi me cago de la risa
    Última edición por Amt0571; 18/11/2013 a las 10:52

  6. #6
    Intento de TMA
    23 ene, 10
    Cita Iniciado por Amt0571 Ver Mensaje
    Es para cagarse

    Alguien puede confirmar que hay aviones con un WC oculto bajo un asiento? xDDDDD

    PD: casi me cago de la risa
    Te vale?

    Lo llevan muchos. Pero yo mas que mear no haria xd
    Imágenes Adjuntadas Imágenes Adjuntadas

  7. #7
    pasajero conflictivo :-)
    22 ago, 07
    al aterrizar saldrían como alma que lleva el diablo ,pero mientras aterrizaban

    me están entrando arcadas y risas con solo imaginarlo

  8. #8
    Usuario Foroaviones
    13 nov, 12
    Cita Iniciado por juanan Ver Mensaje
    Te vale?

    Lo llevan muchos. Pero yo mas que mear no haria xd
    Nadie lo haría... hasta que no puede elegir xD

  9. #9
    Usuario Foroaviones
    20 ago, 08
    Madre mia. Uno se ríe pero un apretón repentino es de las cosas peores que te pueden ocurrir en un sitio sin salida. Si es por mala digestión todavia tu cuerpo puede luchar y aguantar lo que se pueda, como sea por una gastroenteritis aguda lo llevas claro. Me contó un amigo una en un autocar de turistas en Egipto por carreteras en medio del desierto que sólo de recordarlo me pongo malo...
    Press sucks!

  10. #10
    do you wanna fly?????
    02 dic, 11
    hahahaah pobre paisano!! jodidos apretones son lo peor..
    ahaha no me he podido resistir a dejaros este video ahhaha
    porque no somos muchos ni somos los mejores, pero dios hizo a sus hijos favoritos.. pilotos aviadores

    playing my stratocaster!



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