I’ve traveled from Bangkok-New York over 40 times in the last 15 years. East via Europe. West via Tokyo or Korea or Taipei. The 
stopovers at these transit terminals were rehearsals for purgatory and if so then drinks are cheap in that spiritual way station. In fact nothing is cheap in transit lounges, unless your connecting flight is delayed and you have to stay in Narita overnight. Airport towns are suburbs of purgatory, unless you make friends.
Thankfully Thai Air has instituted a 17-hour flight to JFK airport.
Over the North Pole, home to Superman’s Fortress of Solitude and Santa’s Elf house.
17 hours is a long time on a plane.
Thai Air’s gracious in-flight service break up this limbo; personal movies, VDO games, three meals, and attractive stewardesses, which explains why some farangs have been sexually harassing the crew on their return back to the Land of the Freaked.
Faced with a return to suburban living I’d act irresponsibly as well.
Instead I upgraded my consciousness from Economy (Steerage) to Oblivion Class with a sleeping pill.
Woke once to look out the porthole at the frozen Arctic. Ice for as far as the eye could see.
Supposedly the Thais have organized a polar expedition this year.
I couldn’t see them but I waved.
Then it was under the blanket of a somnifer for the rest to the voyage.
Back in the USA I got off the plane and wondered why my legs weren’t working. Seems the blood settled a little too heavy during my slumber. I asked from a wheelchair but being economy they only gave me a walker.
Welcome to America.
It was a quick trip back and forth.