In MN

Made it to MN, by the way, no thanks to the snowstorm in Chicago that delayed me quite considerably. And the worst thing was, during our 90 minute delay on the tarmac, the hoi polloi in coach wouldn't shut up about how 'uncomfortable' they were.

It was enough to make me not enjoy my glass of sherry as I listened to Brahms and warmed my hands by the individual fireplaces we were all given in First Class.

The nerve of those jackals. To say nothing of the stench emanating from the rabble. As everyone knows, fine cheeses and wines of the world, such as the kinds I was served during our delay, are enjoyed as much by the nose as by the taste buds.

But who can do so when Joe lunchpail in coach takes off his steel-toed Sorels not 15 feet from my extra plush chair (complete with built in lumbar support, footrest and slippers, to 'rest his dogs'? Honestly, what does that even mean?

I'm still scandalized by the horror.