There is a strange phenomenon with flying out of New York, I always get to my destination either on time or early. Always. However, the price for this seems to be that I NEVER get home again on time. Even when I leave on time, I'm late. On this trip we pushed off from the gate about 30 minutes late, with every intention of getting back to New York on time, only to circle around Cleveland for an hour and then New York itself for another 30 minutes.
All the while sitting next to a smelly drunk guy who wound up throwing up and passing out in the bathroom, requiring a "Medical Alert" call in the plane. First time I actually heard "is there a doctor on board the plane?"
Cool. Not so cool was when he finally came back to his seat, smelling like vomit and disinfectant for the remainder of the flight.
I love to travel.
BOOK P.S. - Although it still said Our Town on what I was reading, I was actually reading Stephen King's Everything's Eventual collection on the flights.