The flight between Chicago's O'Hare and New York's Laguardia has long been the most unpleasant in America. It's almost always late. (The plane might pull out of the gate on time, but there's a line of 50 planes on the tarmac waiting to take off.) It's usually packed and it reeks. If I were to bottle the scent, I'd call it "Deep-dish Greasy". (Pronounced Greazy.)
That's why I was pleasantly surprised by my trip to Chicago this past week to tape NPR's Wait Wait ... Don't Tell Me! I love doing this show, especially when I win - and when the flights are on time and only half-full, as they were this week.
The American Airlines flight attendants on flight 386 seemed reborn: easy laughs, sparkling smiles, a spring in their step. Like Watergate-era Braniff babes, but without the menace of hands grabbing at their asses. How happy did they seem? They offered me a lime twist for my sparkling water before I even asked. It was sheer joy ... until the end of my return flight.
That's why I was pleasantly surprised by my trip to Chicago this past week to tape NPR's Wait Wait ... Don't Tell Me! I love doing this show, especially when I win - and when the flights are on time and only half-full, as they were this week.
The American Airlines flight attendants on flight 386 seemed reborn: easy laughs, sparkling smiles, a spring in their step. Like Watergate-era Braniff babes, but without the menace of hands grabbing at their asses. How happy did they seem? They offered me a lime twist for my sparkling water before I even asked. It was sheer joy ... until the end of my return flight.
