David Sedaris thinks out loud:

To put them in perspective, I think of being on an airplane. The flight attendant comes down the aisle with her food cart and, eventually, parks it beside my seat. "Can I interest you in the chicken?" she asks. "Or would you prefer the platter of shit with bits of broken glass in it?"

We want to hear what you think about this article. Submit a letter to the editor or write to letters@theatlantic.com.