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My flight was being served by an obviously gay flight attendant, who seemed to
put everyone in a good mood as he served us food and drinks.

As the plane prepared to descend, he came swishing down the aisle and told us,
"Captain Marvey has asked me to announce that he'll be landing this big scary
plane very shortly. So, lovely people, if you could just put your trays up, that
would be super."

On his trip back up the aisle, he noticed this well-dressed and somewhat Arabic
looking woman hadn't moved a muscle.

He said, very nicely: "Perhaps you didn't hear me over those big brute engines
but I asked you to raise your trazy-poo, so the main man can pitty-pat us on
the ground."

She calmly turned her head and said, "In my country, I am called a Princess and
I take orders from no one."

To which (I swear) the flight attendant replied, without missing a beat, "Well,
sweet-cheeks, in my country I'm called a Queen, so I outrank you. Tray-up, Bltch!"
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