There is a possibility that at some point in our lives, any one of us could be labelled a ‘Sad fat git’ or a ‘Mad old hag’. There is however a way to shun this unfortunate labelling. For the first one you must avoid a flight that starts in Safford airport in the US, stops in Fresno Terminal and ends in Geita airport in Tanzania and for the second one you must avoid a flight from Madrid Barajas airport in Spain to The Hague in Netherlands via Old Town United States.
However not all unfortunate labellings are so easy to shake off. Just imagine this for a moment. After passing a ‘spot the difference’ test that separates the seriously stupid from the rest, after somehow managing to get through an interview with a woman with funny eyes that you were unlucky enough to piss off before the interview even started (by completely ignoring her when she was talking to you because you were certain that her eyes were looking at the person sitting behind you) and who asked you questions like, are you into bondage? (to which you replied ‘No’ and she said, ‘I am…well sort of… just for a laugh.’) and ‘Are you punctual?’ to which you replied, ‘What is that?’ (because even though you knew what it meant, for a second you panicked thinking ‘What if it’s not what I think at all and it actually has something to do with bondage?’) after hearing endless stories about the old Rover days of the factory (people forgetting half eaten pork pies in the bodyworks of cars that were sold off to little old ladies who kept complaining about their car smelling like a dead animal) and after doing the same job on the line for months on end, not knowing if you are ever going to get that contract or not, finally one day it happens; you are given three sets of slick new black uniforms and you are told by your manager, ‘Congratulations, you are now an employee of BMW New Mini Plant Oxford.’ In other words, you are now officially a ‘Cow ass.’ Quite horrified, you examine your new uniforms, it’s true; they are all labelled: Cow Ass (some number) and then your name!
‘But why?’ you whine. Shrugging his shoulders and readjusting his cap, Cow Ass A110 replies, ‘It’s Cowley Assembly, init?’