Amidst cold, austere, impersonal surroundings, this people mover serves as the colon of the American Airlines Terminal, shitting arriving passengers out to the orbiting SUVs of friends and family, to be flushed away from the airport into the sewer that is Los Angeles.

Despite the recent renovation of their terminal, American Airlines apparently decided to keep the groovy 1970's wall tile to put on the left-hand wall. Notice the lack of tiles on the right-hand wall, leading one to believe that they either exhausted the tile budget or came to their senses halfway through the job. Standard institutional flourescent lighting completes the "fuck you very much" ambience.

Awaiting at the end of the hallway are two automatic revolving doors. Stepping into these causes one to imagine stepping into a cuisinart.

Running on this thing is fun, providing a handy speed boost to escape from the colicky baby that ruined your flight. The center area is apparently for those with conveyorphobia, or those too manly to be helped along by a mere horizontal escalator. One day, I hope to run plastic sheeting down the length of the hallway and make the world's longest slip-n'-slide. Drag racing the cripple-people scooters to the exit could also be possible.

Amidst cold, austere, impersonal surroundings, this people mover serves as the colon of the American Airlines Terminal, shitting arriving passengers out to the orbiting SUVs of friends and family, to be flushed away from the airport into the sewer that is Los Angeles.

Despite the recent renovation of their terminal, American Airlines apparently decided to keep the groovy 1970's wall tile to put on the left-hand wall. Notice the lack of tiles on the right-hand wall, leading one to believe that they either exhausted the tile budget or came to their senses halfway through the job. Standard institutional flourescent lighting completes the "fuck you very much" ambience.

Awaiting at the end of the hallway are two automatic revolving doors. Stepping into these causes one to imagine stepping into a cuisinart.

Running on this thing is fun, providing a handy speed boost to escape from the colicky baby that ruined your flight. The center area is apparently for those with conveyorphobia, or those too manly to be helped along by a mere horizontal escalator. One day, I hope to run plastic sheeting down the length of the hallway and make the world's longest slip-n'-slide. Drag racing the cripple-people scooters to the exit could also be possible.