Flight to Saint Louis.
I flew to St. Louis yesterday on one of Delta's Fisherprice planes. The seats are small, the bathroom is tiny, everything is shiny plastic, and the overhead compartment is big enough to hold my left shoe.
The inflight hall monitor was giving out pretzels and Delta's little Biscotti cookies (for which I harbor deep seated salivic cravings), and I swear to you, said the following: "Have some pretzels sir, and some cookies for dessert." FOR DESSERT? I didn't realize that my pretzel dinner was straight off the "We're-going-bankrupt-but-there's-no-way-your-service-won't-suffer-menu".
Eeediots!