Dear Qantas

I’m afraid there is something we need to talk about. We have been together a long time but occasionally all relationships have challenges and moments of confronting honesty. This is our time. I recommend you sit and pour yourself a glass of the beautiful chardonnay you serve on board your international flights, not a cup of English Breakfast tea, for reasons that will become apparent.

Best I get to the point straight away. I have been unfaithful.

Yes I know we have been together for close to 30 years, perhaps it was an itch, but a wandering none the less. I know you will feel hurt, confused and of course angry. All of this is understandable and I am deeply remorseful. And or course I will understand if you immediately revoke my Platinum Status and restrict my access to your lounges.

But we need to talk. My infidelity has left me feeling dirty, cheap, regretful and more than a little foolish.

So why did I break our trust ? Well I’d love to say it was curiosity or that our relationship had become stale but to be honest it was all about money, as it often is. She hypnotised me with the allure of a limit time deal and I was weak. She was a Siren, a shape shifter and an evil sprite. She wooed me with promises of keeping it in the “OneWorld family”. British Airways you are an evil temptress.

But before you garner your anger at her, I must further confess. I have also recently had affairs with Easyjet and  Alitalia. And oh yes, a one night stand with American Airlines. Perhaps I’m having a midlife crisis but as they say “Its not you, its me”.

I beg forgiveness, if you can ever trust me again to maintain the sanctity of our relationship. My lover broke her promise and I’m ready to return.

Her food was inedible and her rear facing seats inexplicable. Her service curt and unfamiliar, with the exception of Christopher on BA15 who I can only assume is a refugee from an alien airline and not yet been assimilated. Worst of all she left me abandoned at Heathrow, perhaps testing my love, consigning me to a bus of 60 other rejected lovers to be billeted in hotels, sleeping alone and uncherished.

She was continually late for dates and her apologies hollow. Her final act of cruelness, and I’m sure she knew what she was doing, was to refuse to check me through for my planned domestic dalliance with you. A wicked smite.

I weep for the wasted time I spent in her unloving, untender, cold British arms. The grass is not greener on the other side, it is cold Union Jack Blue, Red and White.

I am truly sorry and hope you can see your way to have me back. If you feel we need counselling I will understand.

My love, please forgive me.