5 hours 55 minutes: JFX --> LAX

Every time I fly, there is always some sort of drama. As a result, I’ve developed a pretty unorthodox attitude about airports and flight schedules. I book my flight in advance. When the departure date arrives, I go to the airport whenever I feel like it and fly standby on whatever plane they’ll let me on. I figure, I’ll get there when I get there. Why rush into the pit of insanity? Yesterday. I arrive at the airport at 11:45AM. I’m too late for the 12:00PM flight, but I know that I can definitely make the next flight. I don’t. It’s full. So is the next one. (Shit, I forgot that it's technically a holiday.) During my extended stay at JFK, I call Bro twice, eat lunch, drink one glass of red wine, and read 176 pages of my copy of Aron Ralston’s Between a Rock and a Hard Place. I finally get on a plane at 5:00PM. The flight from JFK to LAX is 5 hours and 55 minutes. And, they don’t even feed us. I try not to focus on the fact that I’ve just been given six tortilla chips to satiate my appetite for the next 5 hours and 55 minutes. They're serving the people in first class freshly tossed salad and Chardonnay while I'm knawing on this fucking torilla chip and sipping luke warm water. Focus on the movie, Stolie. Focus on the movie. You like movies. See, it's starting ... "Nuh-hunh!" I say aloud as they announce the movie. Young Frankenstein?!?! That movie came out in 1974!!! The passenger in seat 17A is disgruntled. Very disgruntled. I finally arrive in LA and I head to the rental car agency to pick up my car and I then head to the hotel. As I lay my head on my pillow, I smile and think ... Ahhhh, Los Angeles! I still have a handful of friends that live in the city and we've already made plans to hang out when I'm not working. This should be fun ...