Journal Entry: Feb. 15, 2005
We just returned from a trip to Las Vegas. There was a purpose to this trip. My brother, Johnny, (forever, he will be Johnny to me) got married at noon on Valentines Day.
Las Vegas is not my favorite place, and it has to be something important to drag my cookies across the desert to that smoky, noisy place, full of obnoxious tacky people, not counting me or anyone else I care about.
Remember, I live on Planet Lynn.
This wedding was important.
I was in charge of room accommodations for Rich, Barbie, John, Whitney, and me.
For the last time. They will never let me do it again.
One time when we passed through Vegas on our way to another destination, we stayed at a Days Inn that was right behind the MGM Grand. It cost $80.00 per night because we’re old. It was clean. It was fine.
Another time we stayed at the Mandalay Bay and Richard hasn’t gotten over it to this day, as the night cost almost $1,000 after tickets to Mama Mia and dinner and the room. I personally thought it was worth it because I stayed in the big Jacuzzi bathtub for over an hour, and later I LOVED Mama Mia. Some people just don’t know how to enjoy life.
So. Anyway, after hearing from Barb that they didn’t care where we stayed, I went on line and made reservations at Days Inn.
As it turned out I inadvertently chose the downtown Days Inn.
Obviously, I am not a hotel snob. However, I should have known when the parking lot was gooey and gross looking, that it was bad. When the elevator smelled a bit like pee-pee, we made futile plans to leave. In our adjoining rooms, there were barf(?) stains on the carpet, chairs were ripped and had cotton showing, the air conditioning was off and we could only heat our already warm rooms, so we had to sleep with our window open, thus risking our lives.
There was no iron, (like I would have used one anyway), and no remote for the TV. We had to actually get up and Walk Across the Room and push buttons on the television to CHANGE the Channel! Can you believe it?
THEN Richard decided that there was DNA on the blanket. Gross.
We found these things out after we had a delicious dinner at Olives at the Bellagio, and went back to our rooms to watch the rest of the Grammys. I cannot recommend Olives HIGHLY enough, here. Outstanding.
(On the corner by our motel, there was a guy begging. He put his hands in pleading mode and then made the sign of the cross like this:
One would think that if a person wanted to appear religious, one would learn the correct motions, wouldn’t one?
Our TV did not receive but three channels and none was the Grammy channel. We spent the rest of the night finding new accommodations for the next night.
By the time we went to sleep, thanks to John, we had a reservation at the Palace and would not have to sleep with the cooties again. The next morning, as I dressed for the wedding, I found that the intake end of the hair dryer was full of lint and schmegma. I almost hurled. There is nothing worse than schmegma in the morning. (Schmegma is synonymous with grah-doo.)
Richard and John reported that a guy with a long ponytail came into the lobby while they were getting coffee, exclaiming about the wonderful accommodations. He was especially excited over the fact that they provided a snooze alarm! I just couldn’t agree less. But then we didn’t use all of the amenities.
Like the snooze alarm.
We just got up.
I have more to say about this visit.