Steve Braunias: The Secret Diary of the Koru Lounge

Air New Zealand Koru Lounge bar at Auckland Airport. Photo / Nick Reed

GARY McCORMICK

Well God almighty, what's a man to do when the national airline lets him down except to stride into Air New Zealand's private Koru Lounge and order himself a drink.

I said, "A cheeky chardonnay, my good man."

My good man said, "Excuse me, sir, are you a member?"

I said, "I'm a member of the human race. That ought to be enough. So. That cheeky chardonnay, please, and some nuts."

My good man turned bad, and said, "The wellbeing, safety and security of Air New Zealand staff and customers are paramount and non-negotiable. We have clear and well documented expectations of the conduct we expect from customers.

"In cases where customers breach our conditions of carriage, or behave in ways that our staff and other customers find intimidating, we follow a set of procedures to deal with the
issue. The outcome is often in the form of issuing a caution.

"In cases where there are behavioural issues over a long period of time and/or are serious enough for the police to be involved, there comes a point where Air New Zealand is no longer willing to accept some customers for carriage on our services."

I said, "How about a beer?"

ANDREW LITTLE

I sipped my chardonnay at the Koru Lounge and stared moodily out at the tarmac.

I sat in a corner of the lounge by myself.

I got a text. It was from former Porirua Mayor Nick Leggett saying he was leaving Labour and defecting to the National Party, and would run against Kris Faafoi in Mana.

I drained the chardonnay. I tried to catch a waiter's attention, but no one noticed.

I looked at my watch. When was my flight due? Come to think of it, where was I going? Or had I just arrived, and was waiting to leave by car? Was I in Auckland, or Wellington? Or elsewhere? Air New Zealand's Koru Lounges are also situated in Tauranga, New Plymouth, Napier, Palmerston North, Nelson, Christchurch, Queenstown, Dunedin, and Invercargill.

I spotted Gary McCormick. He was with two policemen. "Where am I?", I said.

"In hell," he shouted.

ANNE TOLLEY

"Double-whiskey," I said, to the waiter at the Koru Lounge.

"Madam," he said, "it's 9am. Would you prefer coffee?"

I held my head in my hands. It rang like a bell. The gong was the voice of Kim Hill, getting at me and getting at and getting at me in the interview I did with her on Morning Report. I couldn't hear myself think. All I could hear was Kim's voice demanding to know why no apology has been issued to victims of state abuse.

"Say sorry," she said. "Don't you think you should? Sorry. It's not a big word, is it? It seems to be the hardest word, though, doesn't it? Sorry. Two syllables. The 'r' is so soft that really it's just one syllable. Sorry. Say it. Say, 'I'm sorry.' Apologise. What would it cost you to do so? What's wrong with you?"

I looked up and saw Gary McCormick striding past, escorted by two policemen.

He caught my eye, stopped, and said, "You look unwell, Anne. What's wrong with you?"

PIERRE TRUDEAU

I'd just like top pay tribute to the Koru Lounge. It has made significant improvements to the welfare and well-being of those New Zealanders who can afford it, and is tolerant of non-members who have had their flight cancelled and come in and ask for a cheeky chardonnay.

BUZZ ALDRIN

I was on the moon.

Then I was at the South Pole.

But I got airlifted off, and now I'm stopping in for a drink at the Koru Lounge, and I can't be sure which of those three places are the coldest.