A prominent car company decided that journalists like me should experience an airbag deployment so that we could tell our readers what the experience is like. They set up a booth, invited us to sit in it, and then deployed an airbag. You get whacked in the face. And you can smell something like cordite. There is so much white muslin billowing around you that you think you have gone to heaven with the angels. But hey? That means the airbag has failed in its duty. So maybe you have turned into a bridesmaid instead. Troublingly, what I didn’t bargain for was the massive face rash that made me look like I’d been drinking for three weeks, when in fact it was only two … and the letters SRS emblazoned in reverse image on my forehead.