In Manhattan American Airlines' ticket offices were bedlams.
At one ticket counter a soft-voiced woman had the ear of a clerk. "Can I get two tickets to Boston?" she inquired. The clerk asked who the other passenger was.
"He's in a hearse outside," the woman explained. The clerk's eyes widened. "I must get him to Boston," pleaded the woman, "his funeral's tomorrow." Too busy was the harried clerk to find out whether the woman had intended upending the cadaver in the other seat, or whether she supposed that airliners, like trains, carried baggage cars...
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