On my trip back to the west coast last week, i had a layover in las vegas. i really tried to book my flights so that my layover would be elsewhere – mostly because the thought of being trapped for two hours in an airport packed with slot machines and tourists was horrifying to me. but it was the cheapest and best option schedule-wise, so i figured i would just suffer through. clearly, i really didn’t have any idea how bad it would actually be: the las vegas airport is fucking hell on earth.
to be fair, the trip had started off badly: i had just spent 5 hours on the plane next to a sleezy middle aged white guy and a woman that i’m about 93 percent certain was an eastern european mail-order bride (given that she spoke almost no english, (and he didn’t seem to speak anything BUT english), that they were awkwardly holding hands most of the way and that she was a much, much younger fake blonde that was clearly out of his league looks-wise, i really couldn't come up with any other explanation. i also have to mention that the guy basically got hammered on the flight, drinking multiple bacardi and cokes and numerous cups of cheap red airplane wine... while she nervously downed 4 styrofoam cups of bad coffee. so. weird). this unfortunate seating arrangement was partially ameliorated by the fact that my window seat afforded me beautiful views of the grand canyon and the nevada landscape on the way in ... well, at least until the plane approached the city and the cheesy lights of the vegas strip came into view.
anyway, needless to say i ran off the plane, hoping to find some sleeze-free personal space and a little quiet, only to arrive at an airport that was not only packed with more people than i’d ever seen at o’hare, DIA, logan, laguardia, etc. but somehow was around 90 degrees and steamy as well (INSIDE the airport). ugh.
now, of course there were the usual terrible things about vegas on prominent display, including the ghastly, glassy-eyed people pumping their quarters into the noisy slot machines all day, the masses of tourists in their ill-fitting and ill-advised capri pants, and an overload of fake blondes with fake tans. but oh! there was so much more than that too!: during my layover (as i fruitlessly searched for a secluded spot) i not only saw a dude in a fringed leather vest - worn as a top, with nothing underneath (as one does) - but also a girl in a backless beatles t-shirt and an older woman with a hip-length salt-n-pepper mullet. incredible.
however, the highlight of my layover, by far, was the time just prior to boarding my next plane, when i had what can only be described as a true ERA experience (i.e. weird shit that only happens to me): after waiting in a 25 minute line at subway (whyyy), i finally had my soggy veggie delite in hand and began searching for a place to sit so i could quickly eat my dinner before the plane boarded 10 minutes later. it was so crowded that i couldn’t find anywhere nearby, so instead i pushed through the crowds back to my gate. as i approached the gate, i glimpsed one available spot at the edge of a long bank of seats - i couldn’t really see anything else, because of all the people. i raced over to the empty seat, plopped down and quickly and quietly munched on my sandwich, now in a panic because my fight would be boarding any second. when i was about halfway done i finally looked up (and to my left) only to discover - and i swear this is 100 percent true - that i had plopped down amongst an entire row (we are talking about 15-20 seats full) of NUNS. yes, nuns. and i mean fully-decked-out-in-all-white-robes-and-habits-with-sensible-shoes nuns. it suddenly occurred to me that maybe the reason this was the only available seat in all of terminal c was because IT IS A LITTLE AWKWARD TO SIT IN A ROW FULL OF NUNS…! freaking classic.
but of course once i was seated there, it's not like i could just jump up and leave. it seemed like that would be even worse than my plopping down next to them in the first place. so i ate the rest of my sandwich in practically one swallow, made a big show of how i was finished eating (crunching of the wrapper, overly dramatic use of my napkin) and then hopped up and swiftly walked away to find a bathroom. just as i was entering the bathroom, they announced that my flight was boarding. thus my final, fleeting impression of the las vegas airport was this (which seems fitting): painful tourists, nuns, and a woman in the stall next to me barfing the entire contents of her stomach (and probably some of her stomach lining too - gotta love vegas afternoon hangovers)...
needless to say i'd never been so happy to see the lights of san francisco.
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