I took a 50 seat jet to Cincinatti and then a 757 to Las Vegas. I had a 90 minute layover in Cincinatti, so I was able to find a place to jack in, chack my e-mail and make a quick post or two. The pretty, blond, girl at "Laptop Lane" gave me a great big smile and let me have a Diet COke with lime for free. Sadly I have no plans to be in Cincinatti again any time soon.
I arrived in Vegas at 6PM PST, feeling more than a little jet-lagged, but happy and excited none the less. After the requisite interminable wait to get my bags, I bussed over to Dollar rent-a-car where I let the salesman talk me into a nine dollar a day upgrade for a PT Cruiser. Whereupon I loaded my bags into a sharp, sapphire, Plymouth and ventured forth to find Harrah's Hotel and Casino.
Harrah's, by the way, has a driveway designed by a ferret on LSD. You drive around and around in a cirle, following signs that promise "valet parking" and "check in" while surrounded by roadways that look like they lead only to hells own loading dock. Just as you are about to abandon all hope, hey look, it's a glittery, Vegas hotel traffic circle.
I checked in at the "platinum" VIP check in, thanks to my Uncle the high roller. The nice lady at the check in was sure to advise me, in no uncertain terms, that, should I even breathe on any of the items in the mini-bar, my hotel bill would be charged for those items and my wages would be garnished to pay for it. Upon reaching my room, the first thing I did was to seal up the mini-bar door with industrial strength epoxy, so as to prevent me from giving into temptation.
Then it was a quick change of clothes and back in the Cruiser to go pick up the ChuchMom and the Bride's aunt. ChuchMom was easily located, since I had wisely noted her flight number prior to the trip. ChuchMom, unfortunately, had not noted the Bride's Aunt's flight number, nor the city she was flying in from ("I think the city starts with a C" Thanks mom, big help there), nor the airline she was flying in on. Some tense moments ensued as we attempted to locate the wayward Auntie. Luckily Auntie had ChuchMom's cell phone number and so she was eventually found and all three of us were off to Harrah's (cue again, the story of Satan's driveway) where they both were checked in, of course not before ChuchMom had worn the poor check-in lady to a frazzle by demanding a room in a different part of the hotel and demanding that there must be at least two nights that should be comped (free).
"You know mom, with you there's always a problem"
"You know, you're not too old for me to give you a smack"
But then, the rooms were aquired. ChuchMom's bags were dutifuly lugged to her room, which she still wasn't happy with, and then we all went down to coffee shop for the post-11PM $7.99 steak and eggs special. Yes, there was much joy and eating of steak and eggs and then I toddled off to bed completely exhausted.
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