McCarran International.

I arrive it is dark and the sky brooding. I am reading Fight Club and pondering the Space Monkeys. This is my fourth visit to this airport in 2010. My thirteenth in three years if you count two long family weekends, a drive through via LA with Jess, every trip pick up, drop off, fly in and fly out and weekend off since I started working Death Valley.

I board the familiar bullet rail in between terminals and smile sweetly at all the slots, the bars to buy drinks  and the cheesy 'Only In Vegas' gift shops. Should you want a neon pick tee shirt that shouts 'Stagette' or plastic place mat with a glowing photo of the lit up strip.

I wave to the paintings on the wall depicting other exotic locations around the world. I wave especially hard to Chicago, Toronto, New York, Delhi and South Africa. I remember all the tears I have shed here, as only airport tears have the truly dramatic and resonating effect out of all Hello & Good Bye emotions.

I stare off to Vegas in the dark. We go about prep day. I am ready to go for a bike ride. I think of Space Monkeys and the folks we will meet tomorrow to start out next adventure. I smile ruefully as I watch the Library attendant lurking around the corner, watching my time tick away. I wave to her and proudly, silently flash my Nevada Library Card. Like somehow that makes me belong.