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Byline: Jeffrey Steingarten
Our plane touched down at Orlando International Airport. My fellow passengers stampeded out of the cabin, grateful to have reached Orlando and their winter vacations. Me, I was not yet ready to be grateful. This would be no vacation. Far from it.
Sensing the approach of a flight attendant, who was surely wondering why I was the only passenger still sitting there (with the exception of an ancient woman waiting for a wheelchair), I crept unwillingly down the jetway. Soon the stale, recycled, body-temperature air of the cabin, rich in carbon dioxide and other organic wastes that we 200 passengers had for the past three hours ...