Sucking on a Real Estate 'Binky'

The Davison Files

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.