Whenever I’m at the airport, I get this weird urge to improve myself.
Fresh from my full-body TSA massage, I snub the smutty gossip rags at Hudson News in favor of The Economist and The New Yorker; then board my flight feeling oh-so-very-pleased with myself.
But shortly after takeoff, something else happens just as surely. I’m riveted by “Talk of the Town” — really, I am — but can’t help eyeballing the SkyMall catalogue in front of me. I then dog-ear my New Yorker, open the catalogue with a sigh of defeat and cave to the sick pleasure of wondering who really buys all that sh*t.
To read the full article on The Huffington Post, click here.