Disclaimer: This post will mostly be about my trip to Las Vegas. It will end with a poem, but if you’re here for the poetry, you’ve got some scrolling to do.
I’m back at in the office this morning after a long weekend in Las Vegas. My wife and I flew out there to celebrate our tenth anniversary. I’m convinced that Vegas is an entirely different universe than most of us live in, especially in the South, but it can be a lot of fun if it is enjoyed correctly and in measured doses. In honor of occasional reader Clay Travis, I’m gonna break it down DDT style:
1. When we arrived at McCarran Airport on Thursday, I had arranged to have a stretch limo pick us up. I did this because I thought, that like me, my wife had never been in a limo. It was to be a surprise to her and when we saw the driver waiting for us at the bottom of the escalator leading to baggage claim, I said, “surprise”. Looking completely unsurprised my wife, who knew that I had gotten a shuttle for us and assumed that the driver was for it, says in reply, “you should have waited until I actually saw the limo to say ‘surprise'”. Then on the drive down the strip she informs me that she had been in a limo, for a friend’s birthday trip to a Birmingham restaurant, only six months ago.
2. Everything in Las Vegas is four times higher than here. That’s scientifically proven. The bad thing is that even though you realize this, within twenty-four hours of your arrival you have no problem with it and run through money like it were ranch-covered cheese-fries and you haven’t had a single carbohydrate in two weeks. To prove this point, by Friday evening we were using up minatures from the mini-bar (at $8 a pop) like they were cocktail nuts, when only the day before we had looked at them as if the use of one would break the kid’s college fund.
We had one meal less than $60 and that was two omelets and a glass of orange juice for $36. I expected to pay big money for the big evening meals but $70 for a light lunch, $7 for a beer, and $12 for a mixed drink is a little crazy. But sure as I am sitting here, you just forget about it once you’re there – that is until you get home and look through your receipts. Citibank sent me a thank you email this morning.
3. The food is amazing. I didn’t eat anything that wasn’t wonderful. Our two big evening meals were out of this world. The first night we ate at Aureole in Mandalay Bay. This is the place that you see on TV that has the four-story wine tower and they suspend girls with cables and harnesses to stock and retrieve the wine selections.
I love to eat but don’t consider myself a foodie and this place was on the border of being pretentious but once our waiter figured us out the service was incredible just like the food. I had Ahi tuna and veal shank with a great bottle of New Zealand Pinot Noir. Fabulous!.
The next night, which was our actual anniversary, we ate at Emeril’s Delmonico Steakhouse in the Venitian. I had been there before and this was just as good as I remembered it. Can you say 52oz bone-in rib eye? I don’t have enough command of the English language to express to you how good it was. And if the food was great the service was better. It was one of those meals that you can only afford to do once every year because of the price but it was totally worth it. My mouth is actually watering as I think about it.
4. The faux-hawk needs to stop. Right now. This has got to be the worst idea in men’s hair fashion. Ever. I believe that it is an annoucement to every one that sees you that a.) you are probably a total douchebag, b.) your desire to be cool is overiding your sense not to look like an idiot, and c.) you are a follower to the point that you would jump of a bridge if you perceived that “everybody else was”. This hairstyle actually makes “bama bangs” look somewhat acceptable. And it was everywhere in Vegas.
I have rule when it comes to clothes and hairstyles; if you are going to look at a picture of yourself sporting a style in two or more years and you’ll look foolish or say to yourself, “what was I thinking”, then just say no. Unless it is to specifically get a laugh.
Attention fauw-hawk wearers: Stop! Now!
It’s not in the least bit of a statement of self expression like a real mohawk is. It’s a cry of desperation that sounds something like, “I will do anything to make others think I fit in.”
5. Jet Lag sucks. It not just the jet lag and time difference, which is two hours, it’s also the lifestyle in Vegas. And the combination make it tough to rebound from and meld back into normal existence. I’ve had surgical procedures that were easier to recover form than a weekend in Vegas. We actually got back late Saturday night and I had yesterday to recover and I still don’t fell like myself today. We did blow it out on Friday night and drink quite a bit but still , in all seriousness, I drink more on any given football weekend. The thing is the environment there is just not conducive to sleep, at least restful sleep.
The latest we were up was 12:30, which isn’t late by any stretch, but that is 2:30 to our bodies. Then we slept – or tried to- until 8:30, but that is 10:30 here. My body is so programed to waking up at 5:30, even though I usually lay in bed until 6:00, but at any rate my brain didn’t get the vacation memo and had me up at 3:30 local time both mornings. Granted, it was still dark but my body was trying to tell me to get going from that point on. So, while I was in bed for five more hours it was hardly what you would call restful sleep.
That’s enough for this post. I’ll give you the rest of the trip points, including clubs, gambling, and hookers, later in the week.
Now, for the Haiku:
the children on Senior Trip
will soon have to learn
that come Fall they must be men