Well, if it’s a 747-400, there is always the crews beds in the rear of the plane above the kitchen.
My plan would be to wait till most people are asleep, choose a toilet with no queue, and one assists the (apparently ill) other down the aisle and into the cubicle. No explanations required and it covers odd noises from within too.
Just remember to not saunter back to your seat with hi-fives and a huge grin on your face… :smack:
You can get arrested for that sort of thing.
Si
Ditto.
The weird thing was, I actually did find it kind of erotic imagining having a sexual encounter in that very place. Reason - the tight space gives you that “nowhere else to go” feeling - like being bound and gagged does. I love it.
For the record, this woman denies having sex with Mr. Fiennes. She claims he followed her into the can without her consent and tried to become “amorous,” but that she threw him out. Let’s not make unwarranted assumptions about her. There is no proof that anything happened. Ralph Fiennes, apparently, is not commenting, so let’s not assume this woman gave up the booty. Her version of the story makes it sound like a borderline assault.
I need more details. The rules may have changed since the last time you checked. Cite.
I don’t believe for one minute that Fiennes just barged in uninvited. Who the hell fails to lock the bathroom door, anyway? Certainly not the pros with the millions of frequent-flyer miles.
To paraphrase from one of RF’s movie roles, “If somebody came up to you and offered you… would you do it?”
I think it was probably a logical progression. First he had her coffee, then her tea… 
I’m willing to bet this story’s got legs – and a future “Playboy” pictorial to prove it!
As to what’s the attraction, here’s a previous thread on point … Any mile high club members? Advice needed. - In My Humble Opinion - Straight Dope Message Board
As for the “how,” when I was much younger and thinner, I managed an erotic encounter or two in the back seat of a '65 Mustang. The problem in an airliner bathroom isn’t the space, it’s hitting the target. I have to hang on with at least one hand just to steady myself – otherwise I end up hosing down the whole cubicle! At least the Mustang wasn’t bouncing along at 600 mph when we canoodled in the back seat!
I’m sorry, I hate to follow the crowd with a lame ‘me, too!’
But Ralph Fiennes?
I would, too.
Yes
That would quell any erections
Do you do that at work, too? Because the ladies’ room is gross enough, I don’t want to imagine the mens’.
If you have to imagine, obviously you’re not acquainted with glory holes.
Few ladies are, I’m sure. But all men are familiar with them, at least as an observed phenomenon.
I’m not According to Pliny, but I have - rarely. But I have, on a couple of occasions when the urge was just too overwhelming to wait until getting home, yes.
So wait… Ralph Fiennes isn’t gay? Huh.
“Became amorous” is one of those British euphemisms that evokes mental imagery even more debauched than what probably actually took place (at least in my sick mind).
Meanwhile, Ralph Fiennes is bragging to all the guys he knows, “Dude, I totally did this chick in an airplane toilet. And get this - she was a stewardess!”
I like the last line of the story. “She is a qualified scuba diver”.
Couldn’t Mr Fiennes just deny the event and save the poor girl her job? Seems like the mannerly thing to do.
The stew’s self-exculpation reminds me of how Trapper John McIntyre got his name, if you’ve read MAS*H. 