Delayed Gratification

My connecting flight from Cincinnati to Milwaukee was one of those tiny planes that you feel instantly too close for comfort with the 20 other people on board.  We sat on the plane at the gate for an hour and a half after our departure time due to the door being too frozen to shut properly.  So, I got to spend an hour and half listening to 20 imbeciles hoot and guffaw at the jokes they continuously made up about the "situation."  Next to me sat an old woman with her hair perfectly tied into a perfect bun with her perfect shoes and her perfect manners.  She kept asking me what was going on and I perfectly explained our status about 6 times.  Then I said, TURN UP YOUR HEARING AID.  No I didn't.  An enormous Latino gentleman with his wife who was enormous but a lot smaller than him, took turns trying to fit into the seats and yelling at their 3-year-old chunker of a daughter who shrieked for minutes at a time.  One girl with a thick drawl thought it would be a good idea to tell everyone her life story, even though nobody asked.  Her husband, in Oklahoma, wouldn't ever buy anything not made in the USA.  She informed everyone that she hates her step mom, and "who doesn't?" (me). She loudly stated that she manages a McDonald's and wouldn't put up with any one of her employees who spit in the french fry grease anymore.  Comforting.  An old man next to her waxed poetic about how airlines used to serve free champagne.  I didn't even want to think about what this girl would spout off if she had any of the juice in her.

We deboarded after they told us the plane wasn't fit to fly, so we headed over to a different gate, and the McDonald's manager of the year did cartwheels down the vacant hallway, flopping backpack on her back, screaming "Merry Christmas, everybody!!!"