Flush with excitement

One of the small pleasures of two-leg flights going home to smaller markets like Cedar Rapids is the higher probability that you'll run into people you may know when you get to your final-leg airport gate, which is usually tucked away charmingly in a bubbling drainage ditch behind a haphazard pile of desiccated cows six miles of hardscrabble terrain from the last functioning airport bathroom. And when you change your flight at the last minute, you often get the very back seat on your tiny puddle-jumper-to-smaller-market plane. Right next to the lavatory.

My final score for this flight is 0% people I know and 100% very back seat right next to the lavatory.

My painful distended abdomen and I can't wait to get home.