Saturday, May 28, 2005 4:06 PM
Airports suck. Hangovers suck. Together, lethal.
The only thing that can improve either of these things is booze. I find myself today at the Orange Bar And Grill at the John Wayne Intl airport. The Duke is somewhat of a hero of mine. Not because of his movies or such, but because he was a man. The kinda man who wasn’t afraid to wave a gun around or threaten an actor who was dating his daughter because he was “A Commie.” He is the kinda guy I try to be when I am sloshed. The difference is I come of like an asshole when the duke comes off like an icon. Something about boots and filling and me not.

So anyway back at the airport, OBAG is not bad for an airport bar. It is kinda empty but Guillermo makes a mean whisky and coke. The bar is a circle bar at the far end of the food court in the AA terminal (I tossed that in so I can say I drank in AA) and the few people that are there look like Prozac Nation housewifes on their way to Palm Springs to spend some of the husbands moola. Drinks are airport prizes which is kinda like getting ass fucked by Bubba in County with Icy Hot for lube (I am trying to say it burns) but like I said they are stiff little buggas and it was either this or Starfucks and I have a rep to keep.
Overall rank: 6 – on the sliding airport scale. This bar would suck ass if it where in your neighborhood but considering it is a place for puddle jumpers to grab a quick mind number on there way out of or into town it is more then adequate.
Well they just called my flight so I gave my new boy Guillermo a pound and head off. It is probably for the best because a few more of these and I may have attempted to join the mile high club by myself. Leaving ORAG, I am slightly less hungover and less irritated about the fact that I am at an airport so my mission is complete.
This is Laz saying, may your glass always be full.
UP NEXT: Laz in the real city of brotherly love.
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