Monday, January 26, 2009

Days Of Our Vacation (Day One)

Previously on Days Of Our Vacation: Loly and I went to Antigua. Sandals invited us to reggae dance for fun and we cynically declined. The pull of a fake dreadlocked knit hat upon victory was not enough for us, no matter how much irony it would have been worn with.

And now...Days Of Our Vacation:

We wake up at 4:25 to head to the airport for our 7:20 flight. We get in the car that's taking us at 5:10 and are checked in, through security, and sitting at the gate at 5:45. I crap you not. You might be wondering, do you live next to the airport? No, we don't. Why does this happen? If we slept a little more, we would have missed the plane. But I guess that's just McMurphy's Razor or The Golden Rule or one of those.

We board the plane and the pilot starts speaking. He's thrilled to be a pilot! Is he wishing for geese because he also wants his 15 minutes? Frighteningly, I think so. If this guy ever fails as a pilot, he could be on the Morning Zoo. An example of the hi-jinks he was loudspeaking: "We'll be landing in Lost Wages in about four hours and forty minutes." You see he said "Lost Wages" instead of "Las Vegas." We all had quite a chuckle. Thankfully, he didn't fail as a pilot (we landed safely) and the wacky talking stopped (pushed complementary peanuts into my ears until no more would go in).

We make it about three hours before we go to the casino. Unlike previous casino visits, we go with a plan. Unfortunately, the plan was poorly executed. They wouldn't even comp us a desperately needed bottle of Pepto when we left the table.

We took a walk on the strip and it was so clean. I know it was early (4ish) but the streets were immaculate. The last time I came to Vegas, I hurt myself on day one and had to get crutches. I remember vividly the bottom of my crutches slipping on various porn flyers. The strip was a treacherous pathchwork blanket of two-dimensional smut. Not this time though. Clean.

The casino calls again before dinner. Loly decides to try her luck at Black Jack or, as the pilot would say, "Hi Jack." ("Lost Wages" was better.) The dealer and the other man at the table are very friendly. They teach her how to play and suggest things that she should do. The man has a card that lists the statistically correct move based on what the dealer has. Loly wins. And wins. And wins. By the time we leave for dinner, Loly has almost doubled her money. The man tells her it was a tremendous run and gives her the card. When she returns to the table after dinner, she asks the dealer what time the man left and the dealer replies, "What man?" She tries to refresh his memory and he tells her that she was the only person at the table. Turns out the man who gave her the card died thirty years ago in a casino fire. True story.

Tune in tomorrow for Day Two.

3 comments:

Franke said...

that is so scary. you should blog with a flashlight under your chin.

JPB said...

Wait, what?? Is this like, a litmus test for gullible people who are as stoopid as they look? Cuz, I'm kinda freaked out right now! Seriously??

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