It's always a trip being the only female on the plane; it's even more of a trip when each and every surrounding passenger is sporting the same dark suit, the same bright, yet professional tie, the same shiny black lace-ups, and some personal choice of sensible computer bag. Factor in rain, no ginger ale due to bumpiness and general post-work fatigue, it all adds up to ... well, nothing pretty.

Despite lovely husband-man's vitamin-rich, iron-filled Soupy Rice dinner, two waters, one bitter lemon, and the promise of bed in an hour, the word of the evening is bedraggled. Can't we do something about that hair? Isn't it enough that NO ONE else on that plane could possibly have been carrying anything more alive than a cell phone?