When suffering a three+ hour layover, there’s are worse airports to be than Chicago’s Ohare. They have a Chili’s and that means margaritas, so it’s not that painful, but still. If I had to spend more than ten minutes in CT’s own Bradley International I’m certain I want to consume my removed-using-a-grapefruit-spoon spleen, but since that’s where I’m headed, it’s rather moot. What I find to be amusing, however, are the things that can roll through one’s mind while stuck at an airport.
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