Is this the worst that Sartre can do?

I'm trapped in that odd variant of Hell called Newark, NJ. From what I've seen it really does look like the opening sequence of the Sopranos. I'm in air conditioning, but it's supposed to hit 101F (38C) here.

My United flight back from the Big Apple Con was cancelled last night, and I don't fly out today until 2pm. The only miserable part of the whole debacle was United customer service.

Midwestern storms canceled flights all over, so there must be thousands like me. I'm out a day's work and a paying for a night's stay at a hotel. Some people are missing crucial meetings, births and weddings and everything else more important than a comics page.

I read Sartre's No Exit, which portrayed modern Hell as having to interact with people you don't like. As kids we thought the book was about existential despair, but it seems like light dark comedy now. Of course, I only have 6 more hours in this part of Hell.

I'll write up some news of the con later. I should've gotten a photo of Bernie Wrightson and his wife. Delightful people! Wish I could've had a dinner with them.