In the early 1990s, I had to travel on short notice BWI-ATL-PFN (the former Panama City, FL airport); I finished my business in Panama City in 45 minutes, and got an early flight back to ATL which allowed me to work out a stopover to see the Atlanta Braves at the old Fulton County Stadium, and then take the last flight of the night, an "Owly Bird", back to BWI. The flight departed around 12:30 a.m., which was normal back in those days (when BWI was a really great place to be a DL flyer, remembering here the now demolished Pier B and its private, unmarked VIP lounge accessed by getting a code number to punch in at an unmarked door)

Anyhow, the flight boards calmly and seemingly normally; yours truly is having a fine PDB and looking forward to a 90 minute nap. We push back and head for the runway. The captain comes on the horn and describes the weather in Maryland and that we are #2 for departure. At that moment a character from central casting comes out of deepest, darkest coach, in fishing clothes complete with a bucket hat and his fishing pole, runs up to the F galley, and yells in a moaning voice, "I want to go to Orlando". It turned out that the MCO flight left from directly across the concourse from the BWI flight. What they should have done was take him to BWI, where he would only have to wait 5 hours for the 7 am non-stop departure. However, they made the decision to take him back to one of the DL gates (possibly B2). We ended up getting to BWI around 3 a.m.