I don't take vacations. I'd rather work. If I do take time off of work (rarely) I'd rather work around the house, or spend time with the boy (which is work, believe me). So in an effort to placate the wife, I agreed to go on a vacation. Being a former flight attendant, she's not used to being in one place for a long time, seeing the same thing day in and day out. Repetition bores her. I, on the flipside, thrive on repetition. My addictive/OCD personality DEMANDS repetition and order.
So the million dollar question is: Where do we go? Since I didn't really want to go away, I left it up to her to decide. Naturally, she chose a beach resort somewhere in the Caribbean. Not my idea of fun. I hate the beach (sand specifically), and the price was higher than I would have liked (I'm a tight-wad at times...deal). Not to mention that we would be out of the country with a 15 month old left behind. Should something have happened (accident/hurricane/etc.) we would have been severely limited in our means to get back to NOLA. Not the most endearing of notions to an over-protective father. So I suggested Vegas. She loves Vegas, and I had never been.
So it was settled. Vegas it was to be. Colette chose Mandalay Bay on the south end of the strip because it was the most like a beach resort, and it had the pool and other amenities that she wanted. Who was I to argue, as I had never been. So we booked the room and the flights. So much for a cheap vacation. Sean was to stay home, and Colette's parents would stay at our house with him and the animals. They live across the street from us, so it wasn't exactly a huge burden on them, and they LOVE spending time with the boy.
"The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step"
~Chinese proverb
Our journey began with several arguments over how long it was taking for certain members of the travel group (there were only the two of us...you do the math) to get ready. This is nothing new, as we have the same arguments just about every time we go anywhere. We get to the airport, check in, go through security, eat a quick bite, and board Delta flight whatever to Atlanta. The flight was rather uneventful, other than my renewed hatred of flying. Get to ATL, hit the mini-bar, and wait for the flight to Vegas.
Boarding. Boring. Over-packed flight. Not a spare seat to be found. My long legs were not happy. Ahh well...can't change things. The 3 and a half hour flight was supposed to be uneventful, but apparently our pilot liked roller coasters. I knew I should have been worried when I saw him, AND his seeing-eye dog, get on board. The last 90 minutes of the flight (over BEAUTIFUL desert and mountain landscape) felt like he was flying by braile. Did I mention that I hate flying? We bounced all the way to Gate 46B (which is a bra size I hope to never encounter) and when we finally stopped, the passengers gave the pilot a standing ovation. I wasn't as appreciative, but Colette assured me that planes hit turbulence all the time, and were designed to handle the bouncing. I was more concerned about the wing that was being duct-taped on just previous to our departure. Nonetheless, we were in VEGAS, baby! (Sorry about the repeated Swingers quote, but it's either that or Vegas Vacation quotes-"put a dollar in, get a car")
We land in balmy 103 degree heat ("but it's a DRY heat"...bullshit...it's fucking hot), take the shuttle to the hotel and check in. The place is gorgeous. Palatial. Marble and granite everywhere, and the detail work involved in this place must have kept a thousand workers up at night. We found the elevators to get to our rooms (no easy task, as the signs for everything are deliberately vague, and all take you through a section of casino) and wait with the 50 or so other people trying to cram into the elevators. I decided then that we would use the elevators only when we had to, as battling these crowds would be a pain.
Our room.
Nothing spectacular. Very nice, but just your basic, upscale hotel room. We requested a king size bed, and there were 2 doubles. Not a huge deal, as we sleep on a double at home. There are worse things. The bathroom was strange, though, as it was a handicapped bathroom, meaning I would have to bend at the waist to fit into the shower, and any chance of me getting my hair wet involved me executing moves akin to Cirque du Soleil. I'm not as limber as I once was. So Colette called down to see if they could give us another room with a strip-view, a king size bed, and a bathroom for people over 5'4". After 5 minutes on hold, the manager, Mark, told her that unfortunately they were out of rooms with all of those features, but he could put us in a room with a pool view. Did I mention that it was a PENTHOUSE SUITE with a pool view?
Our new room.
We got the keys to the new room. The polite bellman (everyone was polite, which made me suspicious) informed us that we would have to go down to the lobby again, and look for the PRIVATE elevators that bring guests up to the Penthouse levels. Sweet. No waiting with the throngs of people that visit Vegas. We were moving on up...to the east side...to a DE-LUX suite with a pool view! As we opened the door to the new room, both of us lost our breath. This suite was nicer than we expected. Overstuffed couches, big-screen TV, furniture that looked like it didn't belong in a hotel room, and all of that was in the front room. The half-bath and wet-bar were to the left next to the coat closet. The master bedroom featured another big screen TV, a king size bed, his and hers closets, and more furniture that rivaled anything you would find in a nice store. I think I might like Vegas. The master bathroom was bigger than our master BEDROOM at home. The jacuzzi tub was big enough for me to park my truck in. The his and her sinks and vanities were complete with exquisite marble work, and adorned with (as I later discovered) highly expensive soaps, cremes, shampoos, and such. All of which smelled like a French hooker to me, but I was assured by my wife that they smelled good. Who am I to doubt her tastes? Oh yeah...she married me.
So we unpack in our new home for the week, and head downstairs to get some food. We decided to stay relatively simple for the first night. No need to dress up or anything. We ended up at The Burger Bar. It's in Mandalay Bay, and features dozens of gourmet burgers, and beers from around the world. Right up my alley. Meat and beer. I like the simpler things in life...done with a bit of style. I got a black and tan and ordered a lamb burger with provolone and sautéed mushrooms. A 3/4 pound lamb burger. Tummy happy after that. I think I really like Vegas. Of course, I ate airport and airplane food all day, so the comparison is lacking some quality on one end of the food spectrum.
Casino.
After gorging on the monster burger, fries, and another pint, we decided to move around before we fell asleep on the bar. Naturally, we walked through the casino floor for a while, and naturally my casino-rat wife wanted to play the slots. We each picked a machine and sat down. I put a $10 in my machine, and not knowing what the fuck I was doing hit a few buttons. The screen flashes, things on it whiz around, and a little furry creature (of indeterminate origin or species) starts making all these squeaky noises. Being tired and slightly buzzing, I had trouble concentrating on the whole scene. Next thing I knew, all these lights and buzzing sounds are going off, and I am thinking "HOLY SHIT! I BROKE THE FUCKING THING!" Colette looks over, and tells me that I won a big pile of money. On my first pull on my first machine on my first night in Vegas. I cashed out, put the money in my pocket, kissed her good night and went up to the room. She didn't understand this concept. Apparently, the casino people like you to put whatever winnings back into their machines. I'm cheap. Deal. So after a few minutes she came up to the room to meet me. We soaked in the tub and relaxed for a bit, and then hit the bed, ready to explore Vegas in the daylight tomorrow.
Tuesday.
Woke early (they are 2 hours behind NOLA) and hit the breffix buffet. It was the best $45 I ever spent on a morning meal. Naturally I ate too much, but they give you a whole pot of coffee, so I had the go-go juice I needed. I decided then that you don't go to Vegas on a diet. We hit the streets, and Colette started showing me all of the casinos (inside and out). We walked all over. New York New York, Paris, Caesar's, Monte Carlo, Bellagio, Venetian, Luxor, Excalibur (a dump by the way), and on and on. I decided to try to find the $1.99 prime rib and 99 cent shrimp cocktail that I had always heard about. They don't exist in this Vegas. I learned that Vegas has two distinct tourist areas. The Strip, with all the mega-resorts and properties, and Downtown, the Vegas of lore. The Strip is designed for people of all ages to come and spend their tourist dollars. There's more than just gambling here...the resorts see to that. Downtown, on the other hand, is there for one reason...gambling.
Tuesday night we had tickets for Blue Man Group at the Venetian.
If you have never seen these guys, do it. Take a trip to New York, Chicago, Vegas, London, Toronto, or wherever they perform and see them. We laughed to the point of tears, and being a musician, I totally dug the percussion and music portions. EVERYONE can enjoy a Blue Man Group show. Old, young, musically inclined, tone deaf. Everyone.
After that we walked around a bit, played some more slots (I really didn't...I watched Colette), went back to the hotel, and hit the bed.
Wednesday.
More sight-seeing. Colette dragged my ass from one end of Vegas to the other. That afternoon, I forced her to give me some down time, so we went down to one of the 5 pools that Mandalay Bay has where I read and sunned a bit while she relaxed in the wave pool.
Dinner that night was at a little Italian place inside NY, NY. Very fancy, very upscale, very expensive. But it was comped, so I didn't care. 2 glasses of Chianti, a large Italian-esque meal (and a couple of bad Hannibal Lecter impersonations) later, we were off to the Mirage to see Danny Gans, the impressionist. We had heard from everyone that this was the show to see. After seeing Blue Man Group the night before and being 100mpressed with the theatrics and production values, we had even higher hopes for Danny Gans.
Not so much. His show was good, don't get me wrong, but I was the youngest person in there by a couple of decades. The show catered to the mid-western, middle-age and blue-hairs. His song selection was rather weak, and his impressions, while good, weren't great. Good time, nonetheless, but for the 100 bones per seat, we would have rather seen a Cirque du Soleil show. But you live and learn...
More light gambling followed, and then we made our way back to Mandalay with a slight detour at the Bellagio to see the fountain show. What a sight that was...I would sooner spend $100 bucks a person to see that than Danny Gans again...but thankfully, the fountain show is free. Every 20 minutes...a different show. I like Vegas.
Thursday.
Woke up and decided to play tourist again. Big breakfast, and then some shopping at the art gallery. Didn't buy anything. I need more wall space for art. Hit the Ansel Adams exhibit at the Bellagio. We wanted to go to the Gugenheim gallery at the Venetian, but didn't have time. Ansel Adams would have to do.
After that we met up with one of Colette's clients who lives part-time in Vegas. He picked us up, and we went back to his condo for dinner with his family. After chit-chat and 2 bottles of wine, we changed and he dropped us off at the Monte Carlo for the Lance Burton show. You may not know, but in my youth, I was into magic, and Lance Burton was the "up-and-coming" guy who was to replace Copperfield.
Not so much. Again...production values were sub-par, and from our cheap (they were free...) seats, we could see how everything was done. Having a magical background, I knew how the illusions were done, but Colette not knowing what the hell to look for found the wires and levers and such. All around a big disappointment, but hey...they were free seats. You get what you pay for. Shoulda gone to Cirque du Soleil.
After that, we went back to Mandalay, had a few drinks and played a little more. I played the same $20 for about 2 hours and three cocktail waitresses. When that was gone, I dropped one more fiver in a nickel machine, and won $100. Naturally, I cashed out and went up to bed. I left Colette down on the casino floor three nights in a row. We were either rich and she wasn't telling me, or on the verge of bankruptcy. I still don't know, and I ain't asking.
Friday.
Our last day. We had a noon flight, and security takes a long time in the Vegas airport. Didn't do much besides pack and do some last minute souvenir shopping. Flew home, and pulled in the driveway at just before midnight. The boy was sleeping, but I figured Mac would come greet us. He sniffed me quickly, and then ran to Colette. He missed his mommy. Figures. He's supposed to be MY dog, but he'd step on me if he had to choose between me or Colette. Go figure...I missed him as much as I missed the boy, but he missed Colette. Such is life...
So that ends my tale of sinning in Las Vegas. All in all a fun trip, but it's definitely good to be home. At 108 degrees in the shade and no humidity, you don't feel the fact that you're sweating your ass off. Low humidity was nice, but my sinuses dried up so much I had to battle nosebleeds and cracked skin. Nothing a trip to the Walgreen's couldn't handle.
As for everything else, though, well...that stays in Vegas.
tired 
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