My favorite feature of the St. Louis airport is the "smoking lounge": a little glass booth just off the concourse that reeks of desperation far more than it does of cigarettes. Public humiliation at its finest.
My assigned seat from and to Seattle is identical. Creature of habit I suppose. Now you know where to find me.
P.S. Looks like the Bistro Bags (or "sacks of crap") are back in force. On the way to Iowa, my Lay's potato chip mini-bag puffed up like a little balloon due to cabin pressure. Made me chuckle.