London City Airport is in court. Local residents and campaigners (Fight The Flights) have attracted national attention to their argument that Newham Council's approval of the tens of thousands of extra flights that Charles Buchanan pushed for was both stupid and wrong.
Our all-seeing and tireless spies have infiltrated the London courts to keep an eye on things on your behalf. As you can imagine, the courts are rather fusty and very proper and conservative (with a small "c") places. Proceedings were grinding along at their customary slow but fine pace when who should make a conspicuous late arrival but our own beloved Charles Buchanan.
By all accounts he made quite a show of himself, rearranging a row of people so that he could settle down in his chosen place, like one of those annoying late arrivals at the theatre or cinema. This might all have been forgivable if he had been homing in on a seat with the best view and acoustics, and had then sat agog and rapt for the rest of the day.
But no, young Charles seem to have chosen his seat for best WiFi reception, as he proceeded to tap, type and text away to his heart's content, impervious to the death stares from those around him. Spectacles glinting, eyebrow arched, fingers jabbing, the very picture of airborne power incarnate.
Of course, given the amount of texting and messaging he was doing, he couldn't possibly use illiteracy as an excuse for not reading the "NO MOBILE PHONES ON" sign clearly displayed on the way in to the court. The assorted m'luds and m'learneds were deeply unimpressed, I am told. This is no way to make friends, Charles, but I think you may have influenced some people.