Like being stuck flying next to someone for five and a half hours doesn't already suck enough, then they catch you
with your MP3 player (couldn't they tell us which?) and a couple vials of homeopathic medicine, switch into
turbo-freakout mode, and turn you in to the flight crew—who, of course, are under strict orders to be overly cautious
about reports of "suspicious materials". Well, it happened, and they landed a United flight from NY to SF in Chicago
and the bomb squad inspected for three hours what turned out to be the aforementioned. The moral of the story? If you
plan on listening to some tunes and taking some Leopard's Bane on your next trip, do yourself a favor and slip some
rufies in your in-flight neighbor's in-flight bevvy when they get up to hit the in-flight bathroom.