what if Hell is temperate, neither too hot nor too cold. and you are assigned a seat that is reasonably comfortable, with a cupholder and ample leg space. and you're surrounded by courteous and respectful but not particularly personable strangers? you experience no pleasure here, but nor do you experience any discomfort or pain. the only thing you have to do, day after day, is look out a window at your jetway and wait for a flight that will never come.