July 7
Left Josh's house around noon. Drove around til we found a starbucks and a Jack in the box. Paul liked my breakfast sandwich better than his so he ate most of mine too.
Started driving towards Vegas. Blogged for most of the way. Paul was transfixed by the scenery which was mostly dirt, rocks and mountains.
"look it's a cactus!". He was all excited.
I glanced up briefly
"it's a joshua tree"
"no it's a cactus it's a California cacturitis"
He likes to make stuff up. I was going to google it but I was too busy.
Stopped at a filthy rest stop that was hotter than the hinges of hell. Packs of crows were hopping around with their beaks open. I don't know why. Maybe birds pant like dogs?
There were two womens restrooms. One said #1 and the other said #2 over the door. They both were equally disgusting so I chose #2. None of the stalls had doors. The toilets were all clogged with wads of tp and feminine products. The handicapped stall seemed the least revolting so I tried to hurry and pee before someone came in and saw me.
Paul waited for me outside at a "not being creepy lurking outside the ladies room" distance.
Went back to the car and got my camera to take a few pictures. Will post later.
Back on the road. Finished blogging about 30 minutes outside of Vegas.
I had booked a room earlier for $40 at the Luxor. It's where we always stay. Plus I wanted to see the Bodies exhibit really badly and it was there.
We found a fairly close spot in the self park and Paul made me carry way too many of my own bags. He wanted to bring the cooler, but what the eff? You get free drinks while you're gambling. We argued about whether to take it or leave it until he tried to pick it up and decided it was too heavy. It was at least a thousand degrees in the parking garage. It was a huge relief to make it inside the casino. We were immediately accosted by a huge guy in a suit.
"checking in?"
I thought he was going to take our bags and was so relieved to give them up. Instead it turned into a 10 minute sales pitch that ended up being some time share crap. Paul basically told them they were dicks for trying to scam us or some crap. I was just tired of carrying all my stuff.
Made it to registration. Upgraded our room to a spa suite for $50.
Dragged all our crap for at least another mile to the elevator. Our room was on the 23rd floor of the pyramid. Paul kept trying to get me to look over the edge of the walkway. My hands got all sweaty and I hugged the opposite wall. I don't think he would REALLY push me over the edge, but you can't be to sure.
Finally made it to our room. It seems to be as far away from the elevator as possible. Our options for the privacy please sign were a hot chick in a bra or carrot top. Later I would count the hot chick beating carrot top 10 to 1 on other doors. Our door sign at the Madonna inn had said "NO MOLESTE!" in huge red letters. Way cooler IMO.
Paul took a shower and we went downstairs to gamble and eff off. He drank 2 scotches in 5 minutes.
The waitress was walking by with someone elses drinks when he yelled and pointed at her tray
"what's that?! I want one of those"
"strawberry daiquiri"
It was a very girly looking drink with whipped cream and everything.
"I'm not pretending that's my drink". I told him. "that's all you"
He was totally giddy when it arrived and kept trying to get me to drink it even though I hate strawberries.
Meanwhile there was a scantily clad chick dancing on a stage amidst the blackjack tables. She was throwing out Mardi Gras beads to the people hucking chips at her.
"omg. Her whole ASS is hanging out!". Paul thought he was whispering.
Gambled for a bit. Had 2 glasses if champagne. Then Paul decides he has to ride the roller coaster and New York New York.
We took the tram over to Excalibur and walked the rest of the way. We kept having to stop so he could make me watch the roller coaster and tell me how awesome it was going to be. I wanted no part of it.
The entrance to the ride was located in the arcade and we had to wade through throngs of booty short clad teens and screaming toddlers. Panic set in for me. I hate crowds. And people. And peoples children.
Paul wasn't allowed to take anything on the ride so I was designated crap holder. I stood around and waited trying to look as much like I wasn't a creepy child murderer as possible. But mostly I was bored. I went into the gift shop and bought some touristy crap. Stood around and waited. Some creepy guy holding 2 beers came up and started talking to me.
"nice tats. You must be from so cal"
"no San Francisco"
"ooh nor cal! Frisco huh"
"yeah"
I tried to ignore him and he finally went away. Paul came out a few minutes later and was all gleeful that he had managed to illegally video tape the ride and then wanted to make me watch it.
I was starving. He had skipped dinner in favor of drinking and it was now midnight.
On our way out I saw the glass meat cabinet in the middle of the casino. Not sure the purpose, but made Paul take a not that flattering picture of me in front of it.
Walked back to our hotel after finding out the tram stopped running at 10:30. I was pretty sweaty, hungry and grumpy at this point. Passed an obvious call girl on the street. Then a priest carrying a little suitcase and smoking a cigarette like it was a joint.
Back at the hotel. Had a quesadilla in the 24 hour cafe. Paul had a chili cheese omelette. We debating drinking some more and finally decided to go back up to our room and get in the jacuzzi. It took over an hour to fill up, but it was worth it.
-- Post From My iPhone
nor cal - ha! Like nobody in Iowa has tats, right?
ReplyDeleteI'm surprised your hubby didn't spew on the roller coaster after the mix of drinks he had. Just reading that made me queasy!
ReplyDeleteObviously if you're towards the West coast and have tats you MUST be from SoCal or "Frisco" *giggle*.
Susan- I know right? But maybe girls in Iowa dont have as many as me...haha!
ReplyDeleteStatic- I'm surprised he didnt puke too. He gets so funny when hes drunk...he talks a million miles a minute and is even more prone to throw out made up facts then normal. he kept saying something about chamelons that night, but I cant for the life of me remember what he was talking about.
ReplyDeleteI hate the term "Frisco" with a passion! Maybe its a "nor cal" thing HAHA!
They probably have as many as you; just not in places where the general public can see them.
ReplyDelete