We were supposed to arrive in NYC at 2, this afternoon.
The plane was diverted because La Guardia was socked in with storms. We spent the afternoon sitting on a runway in Allentown, Pennsylvania. An hour passed. Another, and another, and another. We got vague promises over the intercom, always saying our departure was sometime in the near future. We stopped believing the captain in the early evening.
We had just killed the fat one, the one whose glasses we used to start the bonfire in first class, the one we called “Piggy,” when the captain came on again and told us to fasten our seat belts and be sure our carry-ons were stowed. Woo-heee, were we ever abashed.
We put our shirts and pants back on and finally landed in the Big City around about 8.