What happens in Vegas, stays in … MY BLOG, BABY!

October 11, 2008

Notes from the Great Ireland Horde Las Vegas Tour 08 (unofficially known in Nevada as “Oh, Crap, It’s Them Again”)

* It’s not enough that Las Vegas plucks money out of my wallet like a crack whore on speed, but Mandalay Bay Hotel then has the gall to charge $14 a day to access its Wi-Fi network. Blog or eat, blog or eat?

* Eight people traveling together equals eight people eating together equals an automatic 18 per cent gratuity. They can feed you crap on a stick, you’re still paying 18 per cent. Oh, and don’t even think about asking for separate checks.

* Las Vegas is a Pepsi town. In the restaurants. In the hotels. In the casinos. You want Coke, go find a souvenir stand or a pharmacy. Or start hiking to the Everything Coca-Cola store. When I whine about this lack of the Good Stuff to our server while sitting at Nine Fine Irishmen’s outdoor patio, she promptly opens the gate and tells me to get out. After I leave the 18 per cent gratuity, of course.

* Hand-written note on a paper hat worn by a comely lass in Dick’s Last Resort restaurant in The Excalibur: “The blonde is fake, but the slut is real.”

* Spotted for sale at the Las Vegas Outlet Centre: electronic cigarettes. Great, now even suicide has gone hi-tech.

* Speaking of outlet malls, it’s while sitting patiently in one of those monuments to consumerism that I realize the definition of the perfect husband: mouth closed, wallet open. Yup, folks, it’s that simple.

* Bad idea: positioning a TV in a hotel room bathroom so it can be seen from the tub. Good idea: positioning a TV in a hotel room bathroom so it can be seen from the toilet. Of course, that would severely cut into my reading time . . .

* Nothing personal, young lady, but if you’re going to wear your skirt so short I can see your birth canal, then I’m going to stare. Sorry, but that’s just how this whole being-a-man thing works.

* A friendly cashier at The Luxor informs us Las Vegas has returned to its Sin City roots, that it is once again catering to the 21-35 age group. So, people, why are you still insisting on bringing your children here? What, did Disneyland close and I missed the memo? And while we’re on the topic of children and their rightful places, get the hell out of Starbucks and go to McDonald’s! That’s why Ronnie Mac’s has a play area, you idiot sticks!

* What I’m nearly positive they serve in Heaven: Krispy Kreme doughnuts from The Excalibur. And pecan pie from Bally’s. Eaten at midnight. With ice cream. I can feel my angel wings twitching just thinking about it.

* Seen at the second viewing area in Red Rock Canyon: a warning about rattlesnakes. Why isn’t this posted at the first viewing area, people? Otherwise known as the viewing area where various Ireland menfolk scampered child-like across the boulders and basically played silly buggers pretty much on top of assorted nasty reptiles just waiting to inject their deadly poisons. Oh, by the way, that warning at the second viewing area? It’s actually posted on the back of the information sign. So you can only see it when you return to your car after your crazed scamperings. So, yeah, Red Rock Canyon is pretty much a kill zone. Our own damn fault, really, for being stupid enough to ever leave The Strip. Gamble or die, folks, gamble or die.

* Loved that the Everything Coca-Cola store still maintains one tradition from the glory days of the World of Coca-Cola Las Vegas (sadly shut down in 2000, despite much pleading by this particular Coke fiend): the taste test. Viking Woman, K-Man and Brother #2 pay the grand total of $7 to sip at 16 different Coke products from around the world. We rate them from “Yup, we’d buy that” to “I’m glad Brother #2 paid for this” to “Who pissed in my kerosene?” Only one product falls into the latter category, something called Beverly that is, thankfully, only available in Italy.

* The Ireland Horde walks into the casino at the Greek Isles Hotel and instantly doubles the number of patrons. (Actually, there might have been more customers at one point but, judging by the size of the cashier, he ate them.) After looking at this place on the tourist map for years, we finally decide to check it out. It’s dark and it’s dingy and the fact that everyone has turned to observe our entrance is a bit weird and creepy. But then we realize the slot machines use actual coins. Even better, they pay out in actual coins. None of that paper-slip shit here, baby. K-man feeds in a fiver just to cash it out and hear that sweet, sweet music. This is what Heaven sounds like. While you’re eating pecan pie. At midnight.

* Only in Vegas Part 1: Viking Woman is moved to such ecstasy by a shoe on display in the window of the Manalo Blahnik store that she actually licks it before rubbing it on her chest. Much to the amusement of passers-by. One of my sisters captures the entire episode on camera. The person seen slinking out of frame, red-faced, head down, eyes averted, would be me.

* Only in Vegas Part 2: Brother #2 brushes up against a million-dollar Lamborghini and his first thought is this: “Sure hope I didn’t scratch my watch.”

* Gotta love the whole post-9/11 security measure situation at airports. One false blink and your orifices belong to the nice officer with the probe and the flashlight. So imagine my bemusement on our flight home when, after several head counts and a frenzied huddling of flight attendants, an announcement is made asking if anyone on the plane is NOT going to Bellingham. Gee, maybe the employee who called us by our first names after perusing our boarding passes should have taken an extra second to note the destination also printed on those passes. Just a thought.

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