Drug into one by my boss. . . . Unless the purpose is to spend the next 2 hours deep in meditation of your own crotch (e.g. reading and texting on your "Crackberry") then you really get nothing from an airline’s club room.
Other than the lady with the dog who screamed at someone trying to feed her precious K9 a chocolate cookie (“STOP!! DON'T YOU KNOW THAT CHOCOLATE IS POISON TO A DOG?!") it's pretty boring. But, one has to recognize where one is at in the food chain.
Was your use of the word 'drug' vs. 'dragged', a freudian conjugation? :-)
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