NO SIREE. . . . . the main pain is usually the laundry bill.
There was a security man in Melbourne once on his 2 am patrol He told the story of entering at the building of a big corporation on Collins Street. On muffled feet he climbing several flights of the internal staircase till emerging at say the sixth level he was aware of the faint flickering of torch light. He stood at he door of the MD's office, wide open, watching a man rifling through a filing cabinet drawer. Barry stood there watching the invader for minutes. Finally the man, as it turned out a high ranking executive of a rival firm, turned round and saw Barry. "He closed the draw " said Barry " a small selection of files tucked under his arm, saw me, and filled his pants."
Whenever there is talk of the BAC1-11 I think of the story when the VIP squadron of the RAAF (No 34) based at Canberra pensioned off its last BAC1-11. The CO brought the aircraft back to base, sans passengers, immediately before it was made ready for despatch to an oversea buyer. That skipper's name was Terrell, from memory. He requested a run down the runway at 3000 feet agl. At the best moment for display he hawled the nose up into a climbing turn which merged into a graceful barrel roll, a la Tex Johnson of 707 fame. (Done by Tex in Seattle and again over Port Philip Bay, Melbourne. And by Alex Henshaw at Castle Bromwich in a Lanc on a test flight. Delightfully recounted in "Sigh for a Merlin",)