Oxygen Bar

This was a new one on me when I encountered it at the Las Vegas airport, making a pit stop enroute by air to Sacramento on the last weekend in June. But I don’t get out much. It was impressively weird, but a bit phony, considering the recreational oxygen content generally isn’t much more than you get from normal air–though there are exceptions, apparently. Four guys I watched doing it agreed later that it didn’t provide any unusual kick. Better, maybe, was the massage bar at the Sacramento airport, whose good feeling is at least measurable, though it doesn’t last any longer than a visit to the chiropractor.