I once had a July layover in Moon Moon airport, as I like to call the ridiculously named travesty that is “Sky Harbor Airport” and went up to the roof to smoke. I’m telling you, going out towards the edge where it was more windy was like standing in a fucking blast furnace!
Add that, after getting maybe an hour of sleep since it was hotter than Beelzebub’s butthole, I missed three flights because their self check in machines couldn’t deal with me having a Scandinavian character in my name and they had one customer service worker for every 40,000 travelers and it wasn’t a great first visit to my then GF.
I once had a July layover in Moon Moon airport, as I like to call the ridiculously named travesty that is “Sky Harbor Airport” and went up to the roof to smoke. I’m telling you, going out towards the edge where it was more windy was like standing in a fucking blast furnace!
Add that, after getting maybe an hour of sleep since it was hotter than Beelzebub’s butthole, I missed three flights because their self check in machines couldn’t deal with me having a Scandinavian character in my name and they had one customer service worker for every 40,000 travelers and it wasn’t a great first visit to my then GF.
Conclusion: settling Arizona was a mistake.