And the worm turned ...

It looked so vulnerable as it lay curled up on a phosphorescent green lettuce leaf, almost camouflaged with a matching bright green hue, every segment of its body delicately etched out in the soft aisle lights. And then it uncurled and begin to crawl around. I could have watched it mesmerised, except that this worm happened to be on my plate of salad, thousands of feet in air, in the exquisite business class environment of one of the most prestigious airlines.

This was my starter and here I was watching a worm crawl out of the crested lettuce leaf. I wanted to scream but decency permitted me from doing so. All I could do was translate my panic into was a very persistent pressing of the button that had the air-hostess icon.

Why did this happen to me? Here I was, an avowed vegetarian, ticking the Asian vegetarian choices painstakingly in all the airline forms and after all that to end up with the worm on my plate? It was really gross.

The air-hostess arrived, obviously thinking that I was about to insist on some silly idiosyncrasy of mine like some whole-meal bread or something and she was taken aback to see that I had a genuine, legitimate and horrifying complain.

Apologised

The colour drained from her face as she hurriedly swept everything out of my sight and apologised profusely. I felt a bit pacified, but then there was a train of apologies from the staff.

I began to tire of it all. I wanted to tell them listen all I want is something edible to eat. I have lost my appetite for salads; probably for life and the beautiful chocolate mousse that you are offering me is not what I want. I want a good wholesome meal after having been airborne for more than four hours.

I protested about poor hygiene standards, but was really averse to kicking up a big fuss. That compounded the guilt of the staff who went on to upgrade me to first class, kept on plying me with more and more food that made me sick and eventually a compensatory gift. By now I was embarrassed and wondered if my compliant nature had brought this upon me.

Should I have kicked up a big fuss in the beginning like announcing it loudly to all business class passengers, to throw the salad into the bin? Should I have threatened the airline staff with a huge compensation claim, should I have photographed the beautiful worm in its full glory? Should I have pursued the matter to its logical compensatory end? I don't really know, but the humble creature gave me enough gist to fill the colours in the canvas of an emerging picture in my mind. My heart went out to the short life of the defenceless green creature.

It flew across continents, risked being a stowaway in a bunch of lettuce leaves, had its moment of glory when it revealed himself in a brilliant green on green ramp walk on the edge of the lettuce leaf, managed to surprise so many in its short but dramatic life and probably had its vulnerable breath snuffed out in the powerful swirls of the suction drain in the pantry.

All in all - it's an immemorable creepy crawly tale that has definitely shaken my complacent faith in the claims of excellence of a certain prestigious airline carrier.