That's THREE FOR THREE now. Three times I have given you my custom and three times you have fucked me in the arse. And not small fucking things either: it's either NO tickets or it's the WRONG ticket or the wrong fucking flight. I say no more and bid you good day, Sir.
UPDATE: Oh and this is what you call the AISLE SEAT I REQUESTED IS IT?? Right, because to me it looks like I'm sandwiched between a weird smelling freak who slurps EVERYTHING HE DRINKS and a comatose woman who may or may not have died somewhere over the Indian ocean. Whatev!