Whenever an aeroplane would fly over the school playground, all the kids would wave their hands frantically in the vain hope that the pilots would mistake us for stranded civilians and land to save us. Surprisingly, they never did.

Margaret Thatcher was due to open a pointless monument in my town and our school field was chosen for her helicopter landing pad. The headmaster was in a frenzy about it for weeks, and planned for the whole school to stand in formation on the rugby pitch to spell the word "welcome", so that it would be visible from the air. That morning, despite 4 hours of being shuffled around by near-hysterical teachers, our inability to stand still meant that when Thatcher's helicopter finally appeared on the horizon, it was welcomed by what could only have looked like a mob of 1500 randomly arranged kids all waving the "v"s at her. This caused her to change her mind, land in the car park at the other side of the school, and immediately drive off, completely avoiding us in doing so. Bitch.