'Well Oil Beef Hooked....'

There were a pair Irish men on the same flight from Amsterdam as me. They looked like they had been partying for the past week. I watched them emerge from Baggage Claim with the wobbly boots well and truly attached. Tired and emotional, they couldn't face the long queue at passport control, so they opted to use the OCR reader at Gatwick airport - a fancy new piece of technology that scans and reads the unique image of your eyes for recognition.

The slightly less pissed of the two staggered into the glass containment cage and lurched over the optical reader - after several failed attempts he was able to stand still enough for the machine to scan his eyes and let him through. The second, significantly more pissed of the two, bumped his way into the glass containment cage like...like...a very pissed person bumping his way into a glass containment cage.

He leaned up against the scanner and started swaying backwards and forwards as he tried to keep his balance.

'Please stand closer', said the computerised voice. The drunk man swayed forwards.

'Please stand further back', said the computerised voice. The drunk man swayed backwards.

'Please stand closer', repeated the computerised voice. The drunk man swayed forwards.

This continued for several minutes as the man performed an intimate dance with the scanner.

'Oim fooken well standin on top o you', he slurred at the computerised voice.

'Please stand closer', repeated the computerised voice.

He then proceeded to debate whether he was standing too far back or too close to the scanner with a computerised voice generator.

'Please stand further back', asked the computerised voice.

Our drunken travel companion finally gave up and joined the end of the queue to the wild applause of hundreds of witnesses.