Yes, Lovelies, once again it is time to play in Vegas. I had wanted to do this once or twice a month, but here we are four months later with just a second installment. I have made it a priority, however, to get ‘er dun before I leave Nevada and we’re doing it in a big way. Because of resident and middle of the week discounts, off season, and the poor economic situation, I am able to play in Monte Carlo for a non-bank-breaking three night stretch. How non-bank-breaking? $56 a night. I doubt your local Hampton will give you summat. And how has it been so far? Well, let me tell ya . . .
Checked in yesterday around four. Nice Russian fellow valeted the car and it was time to enter property. Oh, the smell. Like I was walking into a cotton candy machine. Divine. Fruity clean goodness. No lines. Only had to wait behind one person. The guy who checked me in was very friendly. Noticing I was a local he asked what I was doing there. I told him I was doing a blog and the Monte Carlo was next on the list to assess. He then told me about the M club. Didn’t join, but was happy for the info. And the room I got: 321. My b-day 2/13. Arty’s b-day 3/12. So already a great number combo. Perfect.
One little snafu. I went up to the room to unload the luggage and realized I didn’t get a hotel directory of spa, shops and restaurants. So I went back down to the concierge to get a restaurant directory. On the way back I was going to visit the spa on the second floor, but I got sidetracked by the scary Jabbawockeez car on the casino floor. Picture murderous mimes, or the costumes those guys wore when they robbed bands in that movie Dead Presidents and you’ll get an idea what the Jabbawockeez look like. Riding a spinning car in the middle of the casino floor. Petrifying. I got all busy inside and went right back to my room, forgetting about the spa. Damn! Okay. I’ll put down the restaurant brochures and go back down. No biggie, still have an hour before I meet AP for dinner. One problem: my key card doesn’t work. So I use AP’s. Put my stuff down. Before I leave I see if AP’s key has now been deactivated. Yep. So after I look at the gym and spa–which is quite nice, by the way–I go back to the front desk to get new keys. And yep, there’s ten lines. And of course I stand in the one that doesn’t move. Every time a line next to us takes the next person, the old man in front of me turns around and huffs his pops breath in my face. Dude, not my fault. So now every time he turns around I have to turn around so I’m not facing him. But of course he wants me to see his frustration and won ‘t huff until I’m looking at him. Do I suck it up? I switch lines. And of course I end up in front of him. I do the right thing: my mom and dad didn’t raise a mean girl. I ask Huffy if he’d like to go next. He does, he is grateful. I get my new keys. I am happy, my face is warm, I hope I didn’t catch a fever.
Later, after Arty and I have eaten dinner (not anywhere in Monte Carlo, at Kabuki in Town Square because its double points night) we are heading up to the room and this handsome man with premature gray hair steps on the elevator with us. So handsome. And nice. He smiles, we all say hi, his floor was sixteen. Now it is part of the Vegas Playground goals to meet a new person. I wanted him to be my new person. But did I ask him his name? No. Did I talk to him at all? No. What the hell is wrong with me? Fine if I’m too nervous to speak to a strange man for the fun of it. But this is work. Can’t I just think of it as work? So pissed at myself when he got off. I’m all like, oh, if I see him again I’ll definitely say something. Right. Such a loser. (Claw, don’t you dare yell at me for saying that).
And let me say something before I forget; the room has two luggage stands. Most places have one. So it’s like, oh, sorry, everyone else in the room has to bend over. But thank you, Monte Carlo, so AP and I don’t have to fight over who gets it.
Sleeping was great, totally comfy bed, woke up refreshed. Went to have breakfast at The Cafe. Way pricey, but a great breakfast. How pricy? I had scrambled egg whites with potatoes and a fruit cup. AP had strawberry waffles and a side of egg whites. She had fresh squeezed watermelon juice (oh so good, they even brought out a big glass of ice to pour it into, like eating a chilled watermelon). We both had hot tea. $44.48 and $8 tip. Say what what? Those are dinner prices. Total shank in the shower.
Plans for today? Lunch, walk the strip, dinner with our friend Nancy, some gambling. And maybe crossing paths with Mr. Elevator. Here’s hoping for that second chance . . .