I'm always devastated when I have to fly out of the B gates because I know that this is the only place you can go to get a drink. The smell of the bar is vomit-inducing; it reminds me of a cheap college bar where they play Lil Wayne and coeds grind on each other while spilling beer all over the slippery floor. I can't imagine what Jon Taffer from Bar Rescue would find at the bottom of the ice bin here, but I guarantee you it would be disgusting and rhyme with "old". Hungry? Get ready to enjoy some cellophane wrapped sandwiches that make the selection at Circle K look like gourmet fare. Do yourself a favor and starve yourself until you get to your next destination. And if you're craving a buzz, bring a bunch of mini shots in your bag and suck em down while playing the slots.