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by CareyBot

Flight 168 touched down at 2 a.m., many hours past the time printed on my boarding pass. There's no do-over. No "fly the next time on us" hookup. The airlines dish out bad times and we accept it. I sat in the middle seat, wedged like a cold cut between two oversized slices of human bread. Each time I leaned forward I had to dislodge myself between two doughy arms on either side that encroached upon my space over the armrests. The plane sat at the gate for hours while my empty stomach held a press conference. Captain Sprague periodically served up apologies like tapas. In a variety of small and unfulfilling portions he kept assuring us that we'd be cleared for takeoff "momentarily." That seemed to pacify everyone. Sucking on real estate's Binky Real estate is n...