Rock and Brews, LAX Airport Terminal 5, Los Angeles USA

One night in LA, flying in just for dinner. I was at my first conference in 17 months in Baltimore with over 800 tourism colleagues, and it felt like covid was a thing of the past. The tourism industry is about bringing people together, and we were doing just that. It was so great to be back together again.

So when our CEO asked that I fly from Baltimore to Los Angeles just for a dinner to celebrate the acquisition of our company, how could I say no? Land at 2pm on Thursday, depart back to Boston 6am Friday, with nothing but celebrations in-between… sold!

And indeed, the good times rolled on and I was able to reconnect with colleagues while meeting new members of the team. It honestly couldn’t have worked out better and somehow my excitement carried me like a can of Red Bull as we reveled in the moment over a multicourse meal at Rossoblu.

Back to reality at 5am in LAX’s Terminal 5, as I looked for any establishment that was open with food. Boston had great options. Baltimore had great options. Los Angeles still apparently couldn’t get its act together; most places were closed or just serving bagged versions of whatever grub they could muster up. Rock and Brews fit that bill to a T.

I grabbed their club sandwich and headed to my gate to fly through emails before boarding. And no reason to wait when it came to eating – I might as well dine now and try to sleep on the flight home. But this decision would only take me from such a high the night before, to such a low.

As I opened it,the sandwich stared back at me with a depressing glare, both begging me to bite in while simultaneously asking me to throw it out. Let’s be honest: you can tell this was a bad decision right from the get go. And it only got worse after my first bite down.

The turkey was literally like eating salted rubber. How old was this turkey? How preserved did it need to be with all that salt to last this long? It must have been processing in the same fashion as the bacon, which was beyond tough and chewy and literally baked in salt. The bread didn’t help the situation – damp and soggy – my fingers sunk into it as I held on with disappointment.

How do they make club sandwiches this terrible and charge so much for them? Who is letting society get away with this?

In protest, I took my sandwich and threw it out. That was not acceptable my any means. I have volunteered making sandwiches, hundreds of them, at a homeless shelter in Boston on several occasions, and the ingredients we use are far superior than whatever Rock and Brews stuffed into this.

Alas, I didn’t really have time to find another meal, so I hopped on my plane and just prayed I’d be sleeping for most of the way….