January 26, 2020

“Chips or chocolate? That is the only option”

Over the Bay of Biscay

In an airbus 321 to Lisbon,

The air crew push their trolleys

Down the minuscule aisles.

Our three stewardesses have 

Long dark pony-tails.

Matching Portuguese Air Uniforms

Are edged with poppy-red or lime-green piping

On their black vests, skirts

And ironed white shirts.

With gleaming perfect white smiles. 

They tell us:

“Chips or Chocolate?

That is the only option.”

Most of us choose chips;

Plump black air-filled bags 

With golden calligraphy,

“Gourmet Lays Chips”.

We tear the bags noisily

And crunch down the greasy morsels.

Clinking our plastic glasses of red wine

Adds an air of gentile decadence.

When Jim tells our winking waitress

That I am writing a poem about

“Chips or Chocolate”

She bring us more chips, more wine, 

Tiny toffee nut squares,

And four “salame de chocolate”,

A delicious salami like slice

Of white cake and dark chocolate.

We are the cute old couple;

Me scribbling and Jim flirting.