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Why Bob Hope Rules

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No two words can better describe a decadent weekend for the Angeleno than Las Vegas. This LAist poster joined the masses at the Bob Hope (a/k/a Burbank-Glendale-Pasadena) Airport on Friday afternoon for a Southwest Airlines 3 PM cattle call to the city of Lost Wages. And we didn’t mind a bit. OK, maybe a little -- but we still love us the Bob Hope…

Here’s the timeline from Friday that some can probably relate to:

12:45 PM: Driving from Woodland Hills to the Bob Hope Airport

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1:02 PM: Slowing on the 101/134 interchange.

1:15 PM: Driving to Lot C at the airport. Full.

1:18 PM: Driving to Lot B. Full.

1:20 PM: Entering Lot A. Not full.

1:25 PM: Driving around the lot looking for a parking space.

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1:35 PM: Still driving for a space. And this lot isn’t full?

1:52 PM: Hopping on the shuttle. (Finally found a space by stalking a guy with a suitcase walking towards his
car. Kinda like the parking lot at the Grove on a Saturday afternoon around 2.)

2 PM: Arriving at the terminal. Flight is 15 minutes late.

2:07 PM: Going through security. (We love this: Time to find a parking space: 20 minutes. Time to get past
Burbank Airport security: Seven.)

2:08 PM: Let the waiting begin.

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3 PM: Southwest moooooves us onto the plane. (Thank goodness for our “A” boarding passes that we can
now print out 24 hours before the flight. It used to be 12:01 AM. “C’s”’ are for “chumps.”)

3:17 PM: Doors close for departure for our scheduled 3 PM flight.

3:20 PM Captain comes on and says that there’s a backup in Vegas, so we’ll be sitting on the tarmac for a
little while…15 minutes. Max.

3:30 PM He was right. We’re taking off…

3:52 PM Realize Southwest drink coupons are still at home. Opt for the Diet Coke.

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4:32 PM Touching down in Las Vega$. Let the debauchery begin…

To some folks, this timeline might seem like a real bitch. But what are the alternatives? LAist knows that in the four hours that it took to us to get to our destination, some would've been able to make that long, cramped drive, past Zzyzx Road and the Bun Boy Thermometer. On a Friday, however, it's not unheard of for drives up to five and six hours up the I-15.

But the main reason we love us the Bob Hope? It ain't LAX. Those poor folks are either still stuck on the 405 or standing in the security line of Terminal 1.

That's why Bob Hope rules.