An hour of Ex.3 with some chavvy nobsack who's arrivied via Red Letter Days (or some other *ahem!* "flight experience" outfit) from the other side of the country....
Feel more like an entertainer than a flying instructor. Oh, and being bored dizzy with the same banal questions such as "how long have you been flying then?" and "whats the biggest plane you've ever flown?" etc etc..... zzzzzzzzzz! Wouldn't be so bad but you know for a fact that they're not even listening to the bloody answer you trot out verbatim for the millionth time 'cause they'd rather be anywhere but 3000 feet up in a tiny fartbox.
The boke bag is just over there, just gimme a nudge when you've think you've pleased the gormless pranny who bought you this unwanted gift sufficiently enough that we might land early leaving me in peace with my regular students.
VFE.