Ryanair, Ryanground

from my arrival at the airport indications were that there was an half hour delay. 12.30 had become 13.00. We took the time to occupy the bar, naturally. Friends of Simon's on his wife's side (presumably) joined us, but soon became numerous enough to set up their own bar colony and we were left to consume alcohol as God, and the bar, intended. Unexpectedly at 12.20 or so the call went up to go to the gate. Apparently we were leaving only slightly later than planned after all. We downed our drinks sadly, but happily boarded the plane. Of course then the bladder began to complain, but I determined to hang in there until we took flight (well, I didn't really have an alternative). Then they dropped the clincher. Eh, we made a mistake, there will be an half hour delay after all. To be fair this was a scheduling thing (or a rumoured air traffic controller strike), but all my determination suddenly vanished and panic set in. I put on my puppy dog eyes and asked, could I please go. Again to be fair, the allowed us all. I stuck on the headphones and waited the delay out.