Flight delays are dreary. That’s because airports are dreary places. Long before they started hiring proctologists to greet you at the gate, all the humanity had been chased out of the whole process of going from here to there. Things could only go from bad to worse, and boy howdy, haven’t they?
The stewardesses got old and cranky. The application for a baggage handler job only had one question on it: Do you hate handling baggage? If so, you’re hired. We went from a kind of airborne version of a four-star hotel to steerage in a rusty freighter within a span of 25 years.
So it’s already awful, and then it gets awfuler. A flight delay. Your sentence is lengthened, and there’s no time off for good behavior. What’s a guy to do? Bust out the instruments, and make everyone’s day a little less worse. When I’m dead and buried, I’d kill to have He Made Someone’s Day a Little Less Worse on my headstone. It’s the only testament a real man should strive for.