Las Vegas in a Nutshell

As you know I recently spent 3 days in Las Vegas for my sister-cousin’s wedding. I covered my mom hat with my matron of honor hat, but it was never far from me.

I saw The Strip (as well as THE hotel) and Downtown and let me tell you, no matter how much the Dept. of Tourism or the Chamber of Commerce tries to convince me it’s a family friendly vacation destination I was far from booking tickets for my kids to meet me.

Here is a brief overview of some of my random thoughts about the City of Neon, or is it Sin City?

Observations and Thoughts

There’s a lot of water in the desert (fountains everywhere, including the parking garages!)

I was cold nearly the entire trip. The casinos/hotels/resorts are so big I could barely find my way outside of the frigid air conditioning. Whenever I put on my hooded Alabama sweatshirt I kept thinking about the preview for the new show Whitney where he says to her, “You’re wearing a hoodie to a wedding!?” I did leave the sweatshirt behind for the wedding, but it did get me a great 2:00 am Roll Tide in THE hotel lobby!

Straw Bama Daiquiri

Casinos are only fun when you understand how you’re losing your money. The penny slots took my dollar so fast I felt like I was slapped in the face.

I witnessed those breasts getting a lot of action. 

The phrase, “Only in Vegas” was fully understood.

There are no traditional panhandlers in Vegas, they all find some random, often scary costume to hide in while collecting “tips” for photos.

A panhandler in Downtown Las Vegas. I couldn't help but picture it running after someone and beating them up with whatever things were in its bag along with the peacock feather.

Taxi drivers in Vegas are friendly and mostly not from Vegas. The one that was told me the only job she hasn’t held yet is as a hooker.

Things overheard in Vegas

“That’s not my underwear, I don’t even wear underwear.”

“She’s a paralegal by day and a stripper by night.”

“You know the front row is the topless section, right?”

“Now it’s time to cut my t-shirt off.”

Until more come to mind, remember that what happens in Vegas doesn’t really stay in Vegas, it stays on the internet forever.

A Night at the Airport

I once, or twice, wondered what it would be like to spend the night at an airport. Would I wander the concourses, read everything in the airport there’s never time to read as I am usually rushing to the next gate or would I sit at the window and watch the sky go by?

It turns out all I would do is try to sleep.

Author’s Note: This posting is not about which airline I was traveling.

My day started in Las Vegas after a night of celebrating at my sister-cousin’s wedding followed by very little sleep. If you are reading this and thinking you need a specific amount of time all I can say is that it was no more than 2 hours, and not necessarily in a row. But hey, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. It turns out I should have stayed in Vegas for another day.

After my 8:10 pm flight out of Chicago was delayed a few times it was canceled around 11:15 pm. A few minutes went by before I was told the good news/bad news. Good news was my flight was no longer canceled, just delayed – bad news was that it was delayed until 7:45 am! The American airline I was flying offered to put us all up at a hotel and gave us a $5 meal voucher. We were to be back at the airport at 6:30 am. Now here’s when I calculated just how much sleep I did not get the night before, ah hell I was calculating the lack of sleep I had gotten in the past THREE nights in Vegas.

The next thing I did surprised me a bit. I asked the American working at the Airline counter how far away the hotel was. The answer combined with my exhaustion formed the following sentence, “Is it okay if some of us just sleep here at the gate?” She said, yes and I went back to curling up on my two-chair bed with my blanket – I actually had a blanket in my carry-on, no pillow, but a blanket.

So for the next 6 hours gate L2B at O’Hare was my hotel. There were three other passengers who shared my decision, we spoke very little last night, we were all just comforted that we were not alone. I know I was.

I did not leave the chair all night. I am not Tom Hanks from The Terminal.

So here is what I learned last night as I “slept” at the airport.

I learned that to prevent getting sick from germs I should cover my mouth when I cough or sneeze and should wash my hands after coughing and sneezing. I learned that there is no smoking in the terminal and in order to smoke a smoker must stand 50 feet away from the terminal. I learned that between midnight and 5 am the only people allowed in the airport are ticketed passengers and employees. All of these things I learned from the recurring messages that played all night.

I learned that they DO vacuum the airport at night, even if there is someone sleeping. The cleaning people are not intimidated at all by sleeping passengers (or most likely employees since we’re the only ones allowed inside), they WILL vacuum by your head and make a lot of noise picking up garbage under your seat (and no it was not my garbage).

I learned the airport (or at least Gate L2B) is only quiet enough to sleep between 3:00-4:00 am.

I also learned that packing three books was the smartest thing I could have done, although a pillow in my carry-on would have been nice to. The softest thing I had in my not soft bag was two of these hardcover books…and believe me I did consider using them.

At about 6:30 am my decision to pass up the hotel room was confirmed. It seems that because the boarding passes had yesterday’s date on them (remember the flight was delayed, not canceled) that security would not let passengers through security until they received the post-it memo.

I do not place blame on the airline, I’d rather be delayed overnight and arrive alive than have flown through the storm that filled front yards by the airport with downed trees and tree limbs.

This photo was taken HOURS before my arrival at Gate L2B.

           

After working a high school football game last fall I stopped wondering what it would be like to be in a high school after the teachers and students were gone.