Tuesday, December 19, 2006

Leaving Las Vegas

Being my memories of the airport boarding gate as we waited for our return flight home from Las Vegas.

Our flight was supposed to leave at 8.30p. We got to the gate around 7.45. And we waited while all the horrid cacophony of slot machine noises blared around us. Our plane was delayed. At 9 we asked what was going on. Mechanical trouble, another plane en route. More and more the bing ching ring tingle clack roar of flashing lights and mind-numbing hums and electronicly produced tunes tore at my ear drums.

10.30, still no plane. The one that was supposed to be the replacement couldn't leave its airport because of a bomb threat. I'll bomb threat you god damn purveyors of slot machine hells!! but that won't stop the bells and whistles, whirs and chirps, clacks and ratchet clicks as one-armed-bandits rob me of my sanity. Red eyed tired and boiling with rage I stare down the clock, daring it to strike Midnight.

Unfeeling, uncaring, the giant garish digital clock reads 12.30a. We are finally boarding. The laser light show provided by the horrid machinery is not celebratory. It is mocking. Taunting. Laughing at me with all of its many grating metallic voices.

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