There’s something very beautiful about Arizona weather. That is if you discount the extreme dry heat, the occasional mudstorm (a combination dust storm and thunderstorm), and the odd stench of sewer water and Brylcreem. The former must be from the plane hangar I spend my days in, the latter by the bountiful number of old people I spend my nights in......that didn't come out right.
As I stroll into the Goodyear Airport, flanked by picturesque mountains in the background, and the VERBOTEN sign put up by the German Air Force stationed therein, I find it quite comical that the German Air Force would be stationed in Arizona. When I asked about it, it turns out that the German Air Force doesn’t like to train in Germany due to the bad weather. I suppose they think that the next world war will be fought either in 110 degree heat or in Phoenix. Either way, they’re screwed.
Sitting in the hangar, I wonder the same thing as the people around me: when’s happy hour? After waiting for Northrop Grumman to pull their gigantic, but well tanned, head out of their ass, a co-worker and I leave to scout the area for dinner places. It was then we stumbled upon what will forever be the most awesome place in the world.
Bill Johnson’s Big Apple. Not even the Grub and Pub with its fantastic name could rival what was to be found within. Happy hour: 5pm to 7pm and 10pm to close. They know good marketing. Once inside, my co-worker and I order two vodka tonics. (Note: these will be my blissful, drunken downfall) As 7pm approached, we got a call from our other co-workers who were diligently using a Lockheed crowbar for the ostrich-like clusterfuck that was Northrop. They were leaving soon, and we had better have a good place in mind for dinner. We closed out the tab (4 drinks and an appetizer) we noticed just how awesome this place would be: 4 vodka tonics, $6. We did what any other good hard-working American would:
We said to come meet us, and ordered 4 more.
That was a fun trip back to the hotel.
As I stroll into the Goodyear Airport, flanked by picturesque mountains in the background, and the VERBOTEN sign put up by the German Air Force stationed therein, I find it quite comical that the German Air Force would be stationed in Arizona. When I asked about it, it turns out that the German Air Force doesn’t like to train in Germany due to the bad weather. I suppose they think that the next world war will be fought either in 110 degree heat or in Phoenix. Either way, they’re screwed.
Sitting in the hangar, I wonder the same thing as the people around me: when’s happy hour? After waiting for Northrop Grumman to pull their gigantic, but well tanned, head out of their ass, a co-worker and I leave to scout the area for dinner places. It was then we stumbled upon what will forever be the most awesome place in the world.
Bill Johnson’s Big Apple. Not even the Grub and Pub with its fantastic name could rival what was to be found within. Happy hour: 5pm to 7pm and 10pm to close. They know good marketing. Once inside, my co-worker and I order two vodka tonics. (Note: these will be my blissful, drunken downfall) As 7pm approached, we got a call from our other co-workers who were diligently using a Lockheed crowbar for the ostrich-like clusterfuck that was Northrop. They were leaving soon, and we had better have a good place in mind for dinner. We closed out the tab (4 drinks and an appetizer) we noticed just how awesome this place would be: 4 vodka tonics, $6. We did what any other good hard-working American would:
We said to come meet us, and ordered 4 more.
That was a fun trip back to the hotel.
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High Priest stories.