The Birmingham airport must be one of the saddest places on earth. Most airports are simple way stations, someplace you wait until you go to someplace else. BHM (bowl movement?) seems to acknowledge that no one wants to be in Birmingham, no one came here on purpose. We were all routed here.
A woman just walked off the plane with a ginormous trophy.
Despite previous reports, there are two bars in BHM. The first is just past Security - you sit outside of it while you put your shoes on. The second is next to me, near gate C10, sandwiched between the Pizza Hut and the slanted windows. Two business travelers are drinking a beer and flirting. If I ever flirt in that strip mall of a bar, someone please shoot me.
Time to board the plane! Gotta dash.