We live in a society where minutes count. Hell, nanoseconds count these days. Yet, some economies, industries, companies, countries, cities, families, and people continue, same as the decades, centuries, and perhaps millennia before. They are entirely unaware of kilobytes and gigaflops, parsecs and rads. How quaint.

This, however, is not one of those idyllic places; I am not one of those ignorant people, and I am currently not an active participant in one of those industries in which the passage of time should be noted with little more than a sniff of the nose and a shrug of the shoulders.

I am on an airplane, and this particular airplane of this particular airline is late. It's not late because of weather or some disaster. It's not even delayed for mechanical difficulties. Those would be acceptable for my current inconvenience. I am sitting in a plane in a city not listed on my itinerary because some people are blissfully irresponsible, or, as put in my plain vernacular, some people are idiots.

They missed their flight because they were late. Waah. We have to stop to pick them up because we were on time. That's not the best part, though. We get to stay on the plane in our uncomfortable seats while the idiots take twenty-five minutes to load their asses into adjacent uncomfortable seats. Whee.

As further proof to my previous diagnosis of their idiocy, they each came down the aisle, stopping in the middle, then took precious time to clumsily stow their clutter, act confused, and finally rest their own personal ass on an uncomfortable seat on our plane. Meanwhile, the entire aisle full of idiots was held up by the idiot who happened to be in the lead position. What fun.

We got to take off, finally, at ten minutes till the time that our plane should have touched down at our original destination, We are going to be late. Yay.


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