In order to take the edge off of nervous people who suffer various degrees of aerophobia, a number of establishments serving alcoholic tranquilizers can be found in the enormous caverns of the airport terminal. Having a few “passenger pacifiers” located in the main concourse and smaller satellite watering holes spread near the departure gates, calming alcohol is merely a short hike away. As the patrons drink their fears away, conversations fire up amongst the nervous as they all start sharing their stories. First up is the millwright, who travels the world setting up block long machinery at powerhouses. He’s been in 102 countries so far, but if you ask him what the memorable sights of these foreign lands were, all he can tell you is his descriptions of the airport, the ride to the hotel he stayed at, and the ride to the powerplants that he worked at in 14-hour shifts. He threw back his 24-ounce beer. Next, is a woman in her 50’s that runs the east coast cosmetic distribution chain. Using her best products, she could easily pass for a woman in her late 30’s as long as she kept that bandana tightly around her neck. When she threw back her head to finish her Chardonnay, the bandana dropped exposing her neck wrinkles that made one think that he was on the Galapagos Islands amongst the sun seeking lizards. Finally, the most interesting character at end of the bar was a distinguished man in a blue trench coat. This gentleman was relaying stories of his colorful youth in the Air Force. Decades ago, he was assigned to an Alaskan C-47 squadron that occasionally flew missions to Vietnam. They dispersed silver iodide in the clouds over the Ho Chi Mihn Trail to try and wash it away. The intrigued listeners each bought him a shot. Looking at his watch, he threw his head back 5 times as he downed his shots and thanked his new friends. He reached under the bar, grabbed his wheeled suitcase, and put on his airline Captain’s hat. “Gotta plane to catch” were his last words.