I’ve called a lot of things a lot of names over the years I’ve been writing online, but McCarran Airport holds a special place in the HATE wing of my heart. I’ve just spent five hours on a cramped Airbus A320, stuffed cheek-to-jowl with all the other rabble, and the first thing I see getting off the plane before the Departures sign is a bank of slot machines going boink boink BING-bong boink binkety-bink in endless repetition as all the cattle from the rest of the country get off their planes and walk directly to the machines that legally take their money. (Didn’t you morons get enough of that at the McCasino?) Correspondingly, the boarding announcements are jacked up to ear-shredding decibel levels because normal volumes can’t be heard over the slot machines.
It’s an airport that looks like it might have been a blast in 1965, but It sure does suck in 2006.
update: Oh, goody! Some asshole just won something! Let’s go play the slot machines too! boink boink BING-bong boink binkety-bink!