When you're sitting on a rusty satellite platform in the Bight of Biafra burning and turning single pilot in a Bell 212 watching two guys fighting under the rotor disc, doing a tug of war with the last lifejacket and it deploys. So you load the winner and take off anyway.
Just after leveling off, thinking of the numerous better places you could be, a call comes over the company VHF from a guy who used to fly there (you did his line training) who now flies 777s with BA. He's at Flight Level nosebleed en route LHR to Jo'burg. He tells you he's just had his First Class meal and he's going to sleep in a 5 Star hotel with the trolley dolly who served it. You tell him you're busy and have to go off frequency.
You land, go straight to the bar, down a cold one and contemplate your navel.........
