Dear Michael O’Leary - I’ve invented a whole new extra charge I want to pay to Ryanair!

Dear Michael O’Leary

I know how much you love to come up with new ways of making money, so I’ve decided to help you make even more. My idea came to me when I was onboard one of your very fine all plastic yellow and blue flights, which arrived on time, giving us another chance to hear the taped applause preceding that manly Scottish accent telling us how Ryanair is the bestest ever thing since the Book of Genesis.

You get all upset when your customers give out about paying extra charges. I know, aren’t we just a huge old pain in the hole. But worry not, I’m not one of those idiots. In fact, I’ve come up with a brand new extra charge that I’d happily pay to you .

You see, I had expected to pay the tax on my flight. I knew I’d pay extra for my priority boarding, and I’d pay extra for checking in my suitcase. I was only too aware that I was going to pay for checking in online, which is weird, because you have to. Equally strange, but utterly inevitable at this stage of things, I knew I’d pay 4 separate credit card charges, despite only one sum appearing on my credit card bill. One whole charge for each time the Snapper's delicate behind and my voluminous arse hit one of your plane seats.

So no, I had no problem paying for all those items that don’t appear on the price of the advertised flight.

I knew the story.

I also knew that from the moment I sat on the plane I was going to be assaulted for the full 55 minutes of the flight, as your poor wretched wonderful staff desperately tried to make me give you more of my money. 

But no.

I was ready. 

I knew not to listen, each and every 30 seconds, as your rushed stressed staff shouted into the cabin tannoy or careered along the aisle attempting to sell us charity calendars, scratchcards, phone cards, whiskey in a bag, hot sandwiches and breakfast baps, imitation cigarettes that pump you full of nicotine, David Beckham Cologne and Jade Goodie perfume, a newspaper, tickets for the train - and then, it came to me.

It came to me, because even though I knew I was going to pay all that extra money for my flight over the ticket price, just as I knew I was then going to be aurally attacked by a never-ending barrage of sales pitches for overpriced poor quality products, my defences were inadequate. 

You broke my will, man. I didn’t buy anything, god no, but I wanted to stand up and scream “Shut the fuck up, pleeeeease!”, to exhibit strong emotions and possibly even violent actions that would have had me arrested and escorted from the plane in handcuffs.

so clear,

so lovely and clear.

Michael O’Leary, I  will gladly pay you ten more whole English Pounds or ten more European Euro, yes, over and above everything you already make me pay for to fly on your yellow and blue plastic planes. 

Just offer me a silent flight, and my money is yours. 

We have designated quiet carriages on trains, so why not have slightly more costly silent Ryanair flights, upon which nobody tries to flog anybody anything, unless a customer requests it?

In pure business terms, it makes great sense. I never have and never will buy anything on one of your planes, because it would only encourage the attack on my senses and wallet. 

But I will give you my money for silence. 

Deal?