I usually like to fly with a friend. Even though my wife is great, she reads and does her own thing and she doesn’t provide the level of comfort that my friend Jack provides. Being that our flight to New Orleans was around noon, I figured I would do without Jack for once. Right after I ordered my diet coke the four gentlemen to my right all let Jack’s name come out their mouths. I had no choice; I sprung into action and let the steward know that I too would enjoy Jack’s company. The steward served Jack in a tiny plastic bottle next to a cup of iced ginger ale. I mixed Jack with the Ginger ale and threw the combination across my palate only to find the taste very unfamiliar. I immediately looked down at the plastic bottle to see if I had been fooled by a generic knock off, and too my surprise I saw the name JIM! Oh plane liquor gods why have you forsaken me. I find myself cozying up to a bottle of Jim Beam, not as tasty but just as effective.
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