Drinking and airplanes go together like discount gin and regrettable sex partners. But even the seemingly-happiest of marriages ends in divorce sometimes—just as once in a while, those adorable little bottles of booze will turn on you. Not on me, personally—quite the contrary. Airplanes and airports are definitely in my top ten list of favorite places to get wasted. I mean, as someone who’s spent the majority of her post-21/fake ID having years in major metropolitan areas only, the airport is the only location in my life where Chilli’s TOO is considered a totally awesome bar (I cannot vouch for rural/super suburban and/or Midwest living, so if the TOO is your fav local haunt, my bad, man—and no disrespect). By the way: Shout out to the Chilli’s TOOs at OAK and SEA and wherever else you’re plying away pre-plane jitters with your gateside full bar. Your extremely gigantic margaritas really enhance my flying experience.
But even though it’s never happened to me, I have seen the plane drunken-ness rear it’s hideous head.
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