Leaving Las Vegas

Have I complained about early morning flights at the Las Vegas airport yet? Because if I haven't, I should.

This morning I left my house at 4:30 to drive to Terrible's Casino to park my car to catch the airport shuttle. When I got there, the shuttle was already parked outside, which is awesome because I didn't even have to pretend like I was staying at the hotel and make them call for one. Unfortunately, I got an incredibly talkative shuttle driver who wanted to carry on a completely one-sided conversation. When I told him I was flying to Minneapolis, he fell into a tailspin of excited chatter. Apparently, his first love lived in St. Paul. Apparently it's his favorite place in the world.

When we arrived at the airport and he handed me my luggage, he gave me his card. Great, I thought, at least I have the number handy for when I need a shuttle back. Then he flipped over the card and pointed to his cell number and told me I should text him so we can go to a movie sometime. Now I have to live in fear for a week that he'll be on duty when I get back in town. Maybe I'll just pay for a cab. But no, I get back Friday night, and the cab line on Friday night is a disaster.

Anyway, I went through security and stood in line at Port-of-Subs, which was the only thing open, to get an orange juice. "I've gotta warn you, this is going to take a while," said the guy in front of me. "The line hasn't moved for like ten minutes." Since nothing else was open and I was early for my flight, I decided to brave the line. The really notable thing about early morning flights out of Vegas is that everyone is drunk still. One guy could barely stand up to order his "baconincheesesanwitchanacoffee." And there's always a girl who thinks it's cool to wear an ass-baring club dress to the airport. I mean, how long does it take to pull on pants and a shirt?

Needless to say, I am rather glad to be getting on a plane soon to fly to a different city altogether. And I'll let you know how it goes with me and the shuttle driver.