This was the second of the 'Lantana and E' Trip Reports originally written for Trip Advisor's Las Vegas forum in September 2008
To see the thread with all the fun forum responses click here
The Trip:
August 31st – Sept 7th 2008 Hotel: The Mirage
The Travellers:
Me: Still 50 and a bit… still going on 30. Rash but nervous gambler, extrovert, travel junkie
E : 50 and a bit more. Long standing friend, considered gambler, introvert, not big on travel – likes staying at home eating organic biscuits.
Backstory:
We’d first been to Vegas in 2007 …and, like an itch that needs scratching, it had got under our skin.
It had woven its magic….. and left us wanting more…
And now
It was time to go back……..
Monday 29 June 2009
The Sirens are calling....
I first noticed the siren call at the start of summer ….just faintly at first… a whisper on the wind
… then an increasing clamour in my head…
'I can charm you and seduce you … I can excite your senses…..bring me your £££s and I may just make you rich ….come to me… ….you know you want to…....’
‘E’, my old friend and gambling partner, needed no persuading. It’s the only place he goes - or wants to go.
But this time I sent him some ‘ Rules’ ….
NO FRUIT IN YOUR SUITCASE ….
The build up for me starts with a good rummage around the Trip Advisor Vegas forum …what’s new, what’s changed…..who’s been recently … it’s all invaluable information…...and this time I have a notion to float the idea of a Meet n Greet.
I’d tentatively suggested it in my last Trip Report …but would anyone want to meet us?
I needn’t have worried – a flurry of posts and before you can say ‘TA’, I have 3 Meets organised.
Great! it’s Vegas, Baby! and it's gonna be social!
… then an increasing clamour in my head…
'I can charm you and seduce you … I can excite your senses…..bring me your £££s and I may just make you rich ….come to me… ….you know you want to…....’
‘E’, my old friend and gambling partner, needed no persuading. It’s the only place he goes - or wants to go.
But this time I sent him some ‘ Rules’ ….
NO FRUIT IN YOUR SUITCASE ….
The build up for me starts with a good rummage around the Trip Advisor Vegas forum …what’s new, what’s changed…..who’s been recently … it’s all invaluable information…...and this time I have a notion to float the idea of a Meet n Greet.
I’d tentatively suggested it in my last Trip Report …but would anyone want to meet us?
I needn’t have worried – a flurry of posts and before you can say ‘TA’, I have 3 Meets organised.
Great! it’s Vegas, Baby! and it's gonna be social!
Now when it comes to packing, I’m a last minute girl – randomly hurling things in my case in a frenzy…
E, of course, is planning a meticulous countdown - so I wasn’t surprised when he rang up a week before to ask what time to meet at the airport…..
Advance notice is the creed he lives by…
He’d had a momentary panic about his Virgin frequent flyer points ...’they haven’t added them!’ he said…
‘You haven’t flown yet’ I said…..
That’s how advance notice he is.
So …August 31st and we are back on the plane …….
A delay out of Gatwick, and half way across the Atlantic E is busy calculating our arrival
’I think it will be 14.46.20’
I give him a long look. Despite his penchant for precision timing, I can’t believe he will get our landing down to the split second… …
Sure enough ...
At....
14.46.20 ……
Touchdown.
VEGAS!
E, of course, is planning a meticulous countdown - so I wasn’t surprised when he rang up a week before to ask what time to meet at the airport…..
Advance notice is the creed he lives by…
He’d had a momentary panic about his Virgin frequent flyer points ...’they haven’t added them!’ he said…
‘You haven’t flown yet’ I said…..
That’s how advance notice he is.
So …August 31st and we are back on the plane …….
A delay out of Gatwick, and half way across the Atlantic E is busy calculating our arrival
’I think it will be 14.46.20’
I give him a long look. Despite his penchant for precision timing, I can’t believe he will get our landing down to the split second… …
Sure enough ...
At....
14.46.20 ……
Touchdown.
VEGAS!
A Tunnel Too Far ...
Emerge from the plane squinting in the sunlight, blasted by the heat.
Get through immigration.
Grab a cab to the Mirage…
Neither of us are quite with it after 10 hours or so on the plane, and before we know it we’ve been ‘tunnelled’…
Oh well…too late to protest - I’ll know better next time.
The fare comes to $30 including tip. Whatever. We’re here!
Vegas looks good – wearing its finery bathed in a bright sunny glow.
It’s Sunday of Labor Day weekend and The Mirage is heaving with people. Check in is abit of a bun fight. We’d booked deluxe king bed rooms – one smoking for me, one non smoking for E.
Neither are available.
We go into ‘understanding’ mode as the hotel is obviously under Labor Day pressure.
E settles for 2 queen beds and a strip view. I agree to a king bed in a non smoking room for one night only, with a promise of a room change in the morning.
It means I can’t unpack -but I am confident the Mirage will sort me out.
After all, they have my money for 7 nights upfront….
With no inkling of what’s to come, I am just happy to be here.
‘Would you like anyone else assigned to your room?’ asks the check in boy
( well, he did look about half my age!)
I am not exactly sure what he means in my befuddled state …
‘Well, I don’t know yet ‘ I reply, ‘ Depends if I get lucky’ !
The boy blushes.
E looks disapproving …. ‘
‘Honestly ‘ he says ‘ ‘you’re old enough to be his mother’ !
Get through immigration.
Grab a cab to the Mirage…
Neither of us are quite with it after 10 hours or so on the plane, and before we know it we’ve been ‘tunnelled’…
Oh well…too late to protest - I’ll know better next time.
The fare comes to $30 including tip. Whatever. We’re here!
Vegas looks good – wearing its finery bathed in a bright sunny glow.
It’s Sunday of Labor Day weekend and The Mirage is heaving with people. Check in is abit of a bun fight. We’d booked deluxe king bed rooms – one smoking for me, one non smoking for E.
Neither are available.
We go into ‘understanding’ mode as the hotel is obviously under Labor Day pressure.
E settles for 2 queen beds and a strip view. I agree to a king bed in a non smoking room for one night only, with a promise of a room change in the morning.
It means I can’t unpack -but I am confident the Mirage will sort me out.
After all, they have my money for 7 nights upfront….
With no inkling of what’s to come, I am just happy to be here.
‘Would you like anyone else assigned to your room?’ asks the check in boy
( well, he did look about half my age!)
I am not exactly sure what he means in my befuddled state …
‘Well, I don’t know yet ‘ I reply, ‘ Depends if I get lucky’ !
The boy blushes.
E looks disapproving …. ‘
‘Honestly ‘ he says ‘ ‘you’re old enough to be his mother’ !
Mirage
MIRAGE:
"To appear, to seem. The interpretation of the image is up to the fantasy of the human mind and is easily mistaken for a small puddle of water." ( Wikipedia)
The newly renovated Mirage rooms are a decent size and tastefully done but, as others have noted here, the bathrooms are small by Vegas standards.
The bath itself is very compact and I know E is not going to be happy. He likes taking long baths and he likes to stretch his legs out.
I have an image of him with legs bent up to his chest playing ‘where’s the soap’.
Dump my case, shower – call E. Sure enough, the first thing he says is
‘Have you seen the size of the bath? ‘ …
Feel abit guilty that, for all my research, I didn’t realise the baths were going to be that small……
As my room is not going to be my home for the week, I hurry E up to go exploring.
Plunge into the throng and spot a machine called ‘Johnny Vegas’. This amuses us as we have a comedian in the UK with the same name. The machine is also a comedian and takes our money.
Good start…
Wander around noting the long queues everywhere for the various restaurants. ‘I think we need a queue strategy’ says E. The shortest is for BLT Burger. And what great burgers! $25 each for a good feed and we are happy.
Cruise around abit more in a jetlagged haze - the crowd,lights and slots blasting our senses.
It's like being in the ring with Mike Tyson, punch drunk but still fighting...
Give up in the end and decide on an early night in a vain attempt to right our bodyclocks. Head for bed around 9pm ish.
I find Scorcese’s ‘Casino’ on the big 42” plasma telly – perfect!
Fall asleep in my big comfortable bed with Robert de Niro and Joe Pesci drifting in and out of my consciousness… and my dreams……
"To appear, to seem. The interpretation of the image is up to the fantasy of the human mind and is easily mistaken for a small puddle of water." ( Wikipedia)
The newly renovated Mirage rooms are a decent size and tastefully done but, as others have noted here, the bathrooms are small by Vegas standards.
The bath itself is very compact and I know E is not going to be happy. He likes taking long baths and he likes to stretch his legs out.
I have an image of him with legs bent up to his chest playing ‘where’s the soap’.
Dump my case, shower – call E. Sure enough, the first thing he says is
‘Have you seen the size of the bath? ‘ …
Feel abit guilty that, for all my research, I didn’t realise the baths were going to be that small……
As my room is not going to be my home for the week, I hurry E up to go exploring.
Plunge into the throng and spot a machine called ‘Johnny Vegas’. This amuses us as we have a comedian in the UK with the same name. The machine is also a comedian and takes our money.
Good start…
Wander around noting the long queues everywhere for the various restaurants. ‘I think we need a queue strategy’ says E. The shortest is for BLT Burger. And what great burgers! $25 each for a good feed and we are happy.
Cruise around abit more in a jetlagged haze - the crowd,lights and slots blasting our senses.
It's like being in the ring with Mike Tyson, punch drunk but still fighting...
Give up in the end and decide on an early night in a vain attempt to right our bodyclocks. Head for bed around 9pm ish.
I find Scorcese’s ‘Casino’ on the big 42” plasma telly – perfect!
Fall asleep in my big comfortable bed with Robert de Niro and Joe Pesci drifting in and out of my consciousness… and my dreams……
Labor Day
LABOR DAY
02.00 am
Wake up.
Great.
There’s no getting away from it when you cross the Atlantic…
No matter how tired or sleep deprived you are, the lag‘s going to mix you up good and proper……
Rummage for the melatonin…..Sleep.
07.00 - wide awake – that’s more like it…
Potter around, then call E around 08.00 – confident he’ll be awake too. Arrange to meet him in the lift lobby.
This is not as easy as it sounds as the Mirage lifts are a bit of a lottery.
I mean, would you pick one of the busiest days of the year to shut some of them down for maintenance?
No – nor would I.
Head round to registration to see if I can get my room sorted out.
I am advised to be in my ‘temporary’ room between 12 and 2 and ‘someone will call me’. Now, this is not how I envisaged starting my holiday.
I want my new smoking room and I want to get out there! Not stuck hanging around for 2 hours waiting for a phone call.
And I say so as politely as I can.
Tell them I will check back with them later…
I’m still being patient …it’s Labor Day after all.
Wander into the casino determined to get the better of Johnny Vegas. Order a vodka and orange juice from the cocktail waitress.
‘You do realise it’s only 9 o’clock’ says E ..
‘yes’ I reply…’I need my vitamin C’ …
Johnny Vegas is still having the last laugh so we head for breakfast.
It’s Buffet queue hell so it has to be the Caribe café instead. We start the tea making ritual (‘yes, sorry, but can we have a few more tea bags please?’) – E gets his required fruit intake and I go for the Eggs Benedict. It’s fine- and it’s fuel for the day.
Explore more of the Mirage – the pool area is lusciously south sea tropical.
It looks fabulous – but is covered in bodies in all stages of frying ….
I suggest E might like to check out ‘Bare’, the ‘European pool’ next door…after all – we are Europeans! …but not only will he not get his kit off ….on principle, he’s not paying to see anyone else do it either!
And I don’t want to sizzle my rather English white bits….far too painful.
Head out for the tram to Treasure Island.
I am confident this will take E’s mind of the bath situation.
Once a train spotter – always a train spotter …
Through TI, and out into the heat, heading for the Wynn.
It doesn’t disappoint – and I can feel that old sashay walk coming on as we waft our way into its rich atmosphere…
E surprises me by being totally interested in the slots…last year he’d been positively scornful!
Now, he’s a veritable slot queen…….
We both donate a few $$$ to Steve Wynn towards the building of Encore –just hope he remembers to invite us…
By now it’s around 1pm and I want my room. I want to unpack. I want to really start my holiday.
Head back to the Mirage registration desk. Explain to a 3rd registration girl my situation. ‘I’m afraid we don’t have a room yet – you’ll have to come back after 3…’ …..
My patience is starting to wear thin….
02.00 am
Wake up.
Great.
There’s no getting away from it when you cross the Atlantic…
No matter how tired or sleep deprived you are, the lag‘s going to mix you up good and proper……
Rummage for the melatonin…..Sleep.
07.00 - wide awake – that’s more like it…
Potter around, then call E around 08.00 – confident he’ll be awake too. Arrange to meet him in the lift lobby.
This is not as easy as it sounds as the Mirage lifts are a bit of a lottery.
I mean, would you pick one of the busiest days of the year to shut some of them down for maintenance?
No – nor would I.
Head round to registration to see if I can get my room sorted out.
I am advised to be in my ‘temporary’ room between 12 and 2 and ‘someone will call me’. Now, this is not how I envisaged starting my holiday.
I want my new smoking room and I want to get out there! Not stuck hanging around for 2 hours waiting for a phone call.
And I say so as politely as I can.
Tell them I will check back with them later…
I’m still being patient …it’s Labor Day after all.
Wander into the casino determined to get the better of Johnny Vegas. Order a vodka and orange juice from the cocktail waitress.
‘You do realise it’s only 9 o’clock’ says E ..
‘yes’ I reply…’I need my vitamin C’ …
Johnny Vegas is still having the last laugh so we head for breakfast.
It’s Buffet queue hell so it has to be the Caribe café instead. We start the tea making ritual (‘yes, sorry, but can we have a few more tea bags please?’) – E gets his required fruit intake and I go for the Eggs Benedict. It’s fine- and it’s fuel for the day.
Explore more of the Mirage – the pool area is lusciously south sea tropical.
It looks fabulous – but is covered in bodies in all stages of frying ….
I suggest E might like to check out ‘Bare’, the ‘European pool’ next door…after all – we are Europeans! …but not only will he not get his kit off ….on principle, he’s not paying to see anyone else do it either!
And I don’t want to sizzle my rather English white bits….far too painful.
Head out for the tram to Treasure Island.
I am confident this will take E’s mind of the bath situation.
Once a train spotter – always a train spotter …
Through TI, and out into the heat, heading for the Wynn.
It doesn’t disappoint – and I can feel that old sashay walk coming on as we waft our way into its rich atmosphere…
E surprises me by being totally interested in the slots…last year he’d been positively scornful!
Now, he’s a veritable slot queen…….
We both donate a few $$$ to Steve Wynn towards the building of Encore –just hope he remembers to invite us…
By now it’s around 1pm and I want my room. I want to unpack. I want to really start my holiday.
Head back to the Mirage registration desk. Explain to a 3rd registration girl my situation. ‘I’m afraid we don’t have a room yet – you’ll have to come back after 3…’ …..
My patience is starting to wear thin….
MIRAGE
Pr. Mi ra’azh . Noun
1. An optical illusion
2. Something that appears to be real but is unreal or imagined
I am now getting exasperated and start begging for a room number – just so I know where I am going to be - even if it’s not free yet…
This seems to buck ‘the system’ but I am fed up not knowing. Reluctantly the girl taps around her keyboard and finally gives me a number on the 12th floor.
It’s not a king bed as requested –but 2 queens –but it does have a Strip View. By this time, I don’t care what the hell I am going to see out the window – I just want a room!
So armed with the instruction to ‘check back after 3’ I decide to go see where my new room is.
Along the corridor, I get talking to another guest ….she’s going home to Seattle after celebrating her 60th.
As we pass her room she says ‘do you like champagne?’ ‘well…yes!’.. I say (who doesn’t?) She dives in and re-appears holding a bottle …
’Can’t pack this’ she says ‘Have it! And good luck!’
That’s Vegas – the only place in the world where random strangers will give you champagne. Here’s to you Seattle …
So, champagne in hand, I locate my new ‘home’.
And ….it’s got a privacy sign hung on it.
Hmmmm.
Housekeeping are doing next door so I ask the lady if she knows when my room will be ready.
‘Oh – we’re not scheduled to do that one til 7pm’ she says..and looks at me with a ‘who are you ‘ face ...
‘Ah’… I say… ‘I’m homeless and I was hoping to have this room after 3….’
The housekeeping lady looks alarmed. A homeless person wandering around the hotel waving a champagne bottle !?! ….she reaches for the phone…
’No it’s ok....I ‘m a guest here’ I say…’I arrived yesterday - I just don’t have a proper room yet……
Run away before I confuse her even more and she calls security…
At this point I need to have a good moan before I tackle registration again about my hobo status…so I head up to E’s.
He’s also got my luggage.I’d removed it early in the day from my temporary quarters in an effort to be helpful… Now all I want is somewhere to unpack it!
After I’ve finished ranting and raving, E calmly points out that as we have paid for a package, The Mirage already has our money.
So there’s no hurry for them to sort me out.
But if I was a guest who’d made a direct reservation, then I could have just cancelled and walked by now…
He’s right – I’m a captive guest ! Doomed to wander the corridors of The Mirage, weeping and wailing, until they decide to rehouse me…
Right – we’ll see about that….
And, with gritted teeth, I march back to registration….
This time I notice the ‘invited guest’ desk
As I am feeling like a very uninvited guest, I figure I’ll try my luck there….
At last ! Someone who seems able to do something about my nomadic status.
This girl is brilliant .
She patiently listens my tale of woe – and relays it to her manager.
Then she searches the computer
’Your room appears to be ready’ she says …
’But I don’t understand’ I say…’there’s a privacy sign up… and housekeeping said…’…my voice tailing off …
’Well, it’s ready….and we’d like to offer you $75 food & beverage credit for the inconvenience you’ve suffered’…..
Without further ado – after 24 hours in the Mirage – I grab my case from E and head for the 12th. At last I can unpack!
And yes…..the room ……2 queens, strip view …………was mysteriously ready..…..
Perhaps the privacy sign - and the housekeeping lady- were just a mirage……
Pr. Mi ra’azh . Noun
1. An optical illusion
2. Something that appears to be real but is unreal or imagined
I am now getting exasperated and start begging for a room number – just so I know where I am going to be - even if it’s not free yet…
This seems to buck ‘the system’ but I am fed up not knowing. Reluctantly the girl taps around her keyboard and finally gives me a number on the 12th floor.
It’s not a king bed as requested –but 2 queens –but it does have a Strip View. By this time, I don’t care what the hell I am going to see out the window – I just want a room!
So armed with the instruction to ‘check back after 3’ I decide to go see where my new room is.
Along the corridor, I get talking to another guest ….she’s going home to Seattle after celebrating her 60th.
As we pass her room she says ‘do you like champagne?’ ‘well…yes!’.. I say (who doesn’t?) She dives in and re-appears holding a bottle …
’Can’t pack this’ she says ‘Have it! And good luck!’
That’s Vegas – the only place in the world where random strangers will give you champagne. Here’s to you Seattle …
So, champagne in hand, I locate my new ‘home’.
And ….it’s got a privacy sign hung on it.
Hmmmm.
Housekeeping are doing next door so I ask the lady if she knows when my room will be ready.
‘Oh – we’re not scheduled to do that one til 7pm’ she says..and looks at me with a ‘who are you ‘ face ...
‘Ah’… I say… ‘I’m homeless and I was hoping to have this room after 3….’
The housekeeping lady looks alarmed. A homeless person wandering around the hotel waving a champagne bottle !?! ….she reaches for the phone…
’No it’s ok....I ‘m a guest here’ I say…’I arrived yesterday - I just don’t have a proper room yet……
Run away before I confuse her even more and she calls security…
At this point I need to have a good moan before I tackle registration again about my hobo status…so I head up to E’s.
He’s also got my luggage.I’d removed it early in the day from my temporary quarters in an effort to be helpful… Now all I want is somewhere to unpack it!
After I’ve finished ranting and raving, E calmly points out that as we have paid for a package, The Mirage already has our money.
So there’s no hurry for them to sort me out.
But if I was a guest who’d made a direct reservation, then I could have just cancelled and walked by now…
He’s right – I’m a captive guest ! Doomed to wander the corridors of The Mirage, weeping and wailing, until they decide to rehouse me…
Right – we’ll see about that….
And, with gritted teeth, I march back to registration….
This time I notice the ‘invited guest’ desk
As I am feeling like a very uninvited guest, I figure I’ll try my luck there….
At last ! Someone who seems able to do something about my nomadic status.
This girl is brilliant .
She patiently listens my tale of woe – and relays it to her manager.
Then she searches the computer
’Your room appears to be ready’ she says …
’But I don’t understand’ I say…’there’s a privacy sign up… and housekeeping said…’…my voice tailing off …
’Well, it’s ready….and we’d like to offer you $75 food & beverage credit for the inconvenience you’ve suffered’…..
Without further ado – after 24 hours in the Mirage – I grab my case from E and head for the 12th. At last I can unpack!
And yes…..the room ……2 queens, strip view …………was mysteriously ready..…..
Perhaps the privacy sign - and the housekeeping lady- were just a mirage……
Meet n Greet ...
So – to our Labor Day Meet n Greet; and E’s new slot playing fascination pays off…
At last I can happily set up camp!
Travel kettle - check. Tea bags …check...…Milk?
Quick look up and down the corridors ..a used tray outside another room …a jug of milk! Check!
I may be $45 down on the slots but I’ve got $75 dollars credit on my bill, a bottle of champagne, a stolen jug of milk ..and a room! So far…so good.
So tea brewed, clothes hung up, showered and primped – it’s time for our first Meet’n’Greet.
‘This is abit like internet dating,’ says E, as we head over to The Palazzo…
‘I wonder if anyone will turn up?’
‘Ofcourse they will’ I say optimistically….( but I wasn’t sure….)
Into the Palazzo which is all honey coloured in the sun and sparkly new, with impressively grand escalators …
We are early so we sign up for the Venetian and Palazzo’s Club Grazie -the only player’s card we forgot last year…
( Nb ..if you want the free $15 dollars slot play – you only get it if you sign up online!)
Go and lurk around the vicinity of the Grand Lux Café, keeping an eye out for anyone who may be a ‘forumite’. No-one looks likely yet… perhaps we should have had a secret sign?
At 5pm we approach the Café – and, as we do, a pocket Vegas Venus with big bambi eyes comes out to meet us …’you must be Lantana’ she says …’Malv?’ I say? Yes! …
'Malvlover' and I have been chatting on email and it feels like we know each other …
Grab a table near the entrance and keep an eye out for anyone else…a few minutes later a guy wanders past looking vaguely familiar …
I’d always noticed his avatar – a cool looking dude in shades posing next to a rather fetching camel….’Funinhounslow’! I shout to several quizzical stares
‘Yes’! replies the intended recipient ….
‘British’ handshakes all round …
A note for those not familiar:
“ Hounslow is the principal town in the London Borough of Hounslow, situated 10.6 miles south west of Charing Cross .( Wikipedia) “
A quick scan of local events reveals a day of fun with Mr Lolly the Magical Entertainer and a seminar on ‘How to buy property with no money’ …( what? No subprime?)
So you may safely conclude FuninH’s forum name is somewhat ironic …
He’s with his lovely other half, B, and we are soon a chatty merry group. Not long after, we are honoured by Forum Royalty …as warm and friendly as can be, it’s Texas Teejay and Mr Tex.
T and Mr T couldn’t stay too long, (thanks for coming- it was great to meet you !) so after our farewells the rest of us had dinner at the Grand Lux ..and very good food and value it was too.
Highly recommended by all of us …so much so, FuninH and B ate there 3 nights running!
FuninH regaled us with tales of his previous big ‘wynn’ - $800 – which had prompted the Wynn to email him with a special discount. So he and B are ensconced in luxury. E and I are much taken with this – and more than a touch envious. We UK Vegasites hardly ever get offered anything!
After dinner, ‘the Hounslows’ headed off to see a show and, as Malv had never played at The Wynn, E and I insisted. She was our Slot Queen and, we hoped, our lucky charm!
Well, what can I tell you….remember E ‘s scornful stance on slot playing? ‘Real gamblers play tables’? Now, a growing fascination had him in its grip….
Malv and I were side by side, playing I can’t remember what, and E was behind us at another bank of machines.
Suddenly I hear him urgently hissing my name. I look round- momentarily distracted.
‘What? ’ …
’Come over here’ …. indicating his screen with a nod.
I wander over to look…..
Forgive me, but my reaction came with a strong language warning
Let’s just say it began with F …
$1,239
F …indeed.
Scream for Malv and we all start jumping up and down.
Except E. It’s not his style.
If something big happens, his first reaction is not to react…
‘
Call the Attendant’ said the machine……………Alright!
Not one, not two, but 3 Wynn suits came over to process E’s ‘wynn’ ..and for a man not known for handing his details out lightly- he is now the proud bearer of an American tax number.
After that, I was in a state of hyper excitement.
E’s ‘Wild Waves’ had me surfing on a high - even though the slots weren’t being quite as kind to me …
Malv had indeed been our lucky charm that night, and I dubbed E ‘the Slot King’ …
I also called him ‘Slotty bigballs’ …
(Which still makes me laugh out loud!)
At last I can happily set up camp!
Travel kettle - check. Tea bags …check...…Milk?
Quick look up and down the corridors ..a used tray outside another room …a jug of milk! Check!
I may be $45 down on the slots but I’ve got $75 dollars credit on my bill, a bottle of champagne, a stolen jug of milk ..and a room! So far…so good.
So tea brewed, clothes hung up, showered and primped – it’s time for our first Meet’n’Greet.
‘This is abit like internet dating,’ says E, as we head over to The Palazzo…
‘I wonder if anyone will turn up?’
‘Ofcourse they will’ I say optimistically….( but I wasn’t sure….)
Into the Palazzo which is all honey coloured in the sun and sparkly new, with impressively grand escalators …
We are early so we sign up for the Venetian and Palazzo’s Club Grazie -the only player’s card we forgot last year…
( Nb ..if you want the free $15 dollars slot play – you only get it if you sign up online!)
Go and lurk around the vicinity of the Grand Lux Café, keeping an eye out for anyone who may be a ‘forumite’. No-one looks likely yet… perhaps we should have had a secret sign?
At 5pm we approach the Café – and, as we do, a pocket Vegas Venus with big bambi eyes comes out to meet us …’you must be Lantana’ she says …’Malv?’ I say? Yes! …
'Malvlover' and I have been chatting on email and it feels like we know each other …
Grab a table near the entrance and keep an eye out for anyone else…a few minutes later a guy wanders past looking vaguely familiar …
I’d always noticed his avatar – a cool looking dude in shades posing next to a rather fetching camel….’Funinhounslow’! I shout to several quizzical stares
‘Yes’! replies the intended recipient ….
‘British’ handshakes all round …
A note for those not familiar:
“ Hounslow is the principal town in the London Borough of Hounslow, situated 10.6 miles south west of Charing Cross .( Wikipedia) “
A quick scan of local events reveals a day of fun with Mr Lolly the Magical Entertainer and a seminar on ‘How to buy property with no money’ …( what? No subprime?)
So you may safely conclude FuninH’s forum name is somewhat ironic …
He’s with his lovely other half, B, and we are soon a chatty merry group. Not long after, we are honoured by Forum Royalty …as warm and friendly as can be, it’s Texas Teejay and Mr Tex.
T and Mr T couldn’t stay too long, (thanks for coming- it was great to meet you !) so after our farewells the rest of us had dinner at the Grand Lux ..and very good food and value it was too.
Highly recommended by all of us …so much so, FuninH and B ate there 3 nights running!
FuninH regaled us with tales of his previous big ‘wynn’ - $800 – which had prompted the Wynn to email him with a special discount. So he and B are ensconced in luxury. E and I are much taken with this – and more than a touch envious. We UK Vegasites hardly ever get offered anything!
After dinner, ‘the Hounslows’ headed off to see a show and, as Malv had never played at The Wynn, E and I insisted. She was our Slot Queen and, we hoped, our lucky charm!
Well, what can I tell you….remember E ‘s scornful stance on slot playing? ‘Real gamblers play tables’? Now, a growing fascination had him in its grip….
Malv and I were side by side, playing I can’t remember what, and E was behind us at another bank of machines.
Suddenly I hear him urgently hissing my name. I look round- momentarily distracted.
‘What? ’ …
’Come over here’ …. indicating his screen with a nod.
I wander over to look…..
Forgive me, but my reaction came with a strong language warning
Let’s just say it began with F …
$1,239
F …indeed.
Scream for Malv and we all start jumping up and down.
Except E. It’s not his style.
If something big happens, his first reaction is not to react…
‘
Call the Attendant’ said the machine……………Alright!
Not one, not two, but 3 Wynn suits came over to process E’s ‘wynn’ ..and for a man not known for handing his details out lightly- he is now the proud bearer of an American tax number.
After that, I was in a state of hyper excitement.
E’s ‘Wild Waves’ had me surfing on a high - even though the slots weren’t being quite as kind to me …
Malv had indeed been our lucky charm that night, and I dubbed E ‘the Slot King’ …
I also called him ‘Slotty bigballs’ …
(Which still makes me laugh out loud!)
E's win ...
For those who may wish to know how E won his big win:
well, Wild Waves gave him $80 dollars on max lines at 2c a bet.
Instead of taking it -
(as I would have done !) he thought – ‘it’s free casino money so lets see what happens when you hit max bet, max lines at $20 dollars a spin. …’
He did that twice, and the second time the screen was covered in wilds and out came the big money!
He’s braver than me……
But I digress…………
Jet Lag Hell Tuesday coming up next.....!
well, Wild Waves gave him $80 dollars on max lines at 2c a bet.
Instead of taking it -
(as I would have done !) he thought – ‘it’s free casino money so lets see what happens when you hit max bet, max lines at $20 dollars a spin. …’
He did that twice, and the second time the screen was covered in wilds and out came the big money!
He’s braver than me……
But I digress…………
Jet Lag Hell Tuesday coming up next.....!
Jet lag Hell Tuesday ...
Despite the previous night’s excitement, I woke up in a grouch. The lag seemed to kick in even more after 2 days and I’d had a disturbed night.
E had insisted he’d be sleeping til 11 – but I knew he wouldn’t. The lag doesn’t legislate for how few hours you’ve slept – just what time zone you’re in…..and your brain will be prodding you awake regardless of how long you’ve been in the arms of Morpheus….
I killed some time, and then called E at 10.30. He was up -as I knew he would be-and had already had room service breakfast.
‘Selfish git! ‘I exclaimed …( told you I was in a bad mood!)…’but I was hungry’ he said ‘and I thought I’d let you sleep’……( he does tend to panic about eating…)
I grumpily lectured him on jetlag and pointed out that, no matter what time we both hit the sack, our body clocks would be in sync…and now I had to do breakfast on my own.
E said room service took half an hour, the buffet q was long again… so I headed back to the Caribe café…
‘Would you like to sit at the counter?’ Said the maitre d’ …
’Ok then’, I said, thinking it would be like a breakfast bar and save me time - and them a table.
And it is like a breakfast bar ..
Except that we singletons are all seated along one side in a very long line,
Quite frankly, it felt like animals’ feeding time.
I order something quick and easy. Bacon and eggs, tea and toast.
And I wait.
And wait.
And wait…….
I am already feeling like Billy No Mates …..
But now I appear to be Billy No Plates as well…
I look on hungrily as others are served - but the waiters scurry back to the kitchens before I can grab one.
After 15 minutes I nicely ask the ‘water man’ if my order will be coming soon.
‘Yes’ he replies enigmatically, a faint smile playing about his lips -but he doesn’t go off and tell anyone.
I am beginning to think that, like at registration, if you ask the wrong person -you won’t get a result.
After 20 minutes I manage to grab a waiter. And politely remind him of my order.
The man seated next to me leans over. ‘I would have complained after 10 minutes’ he says and is amazed at my patience …’Ah’, I say ‘we’re used to this in the UK !’ but admit it’s a surprise in the country famed for its customer service.
Or perhaps this is another ‘Mirage’ ..I think I can see my breakfast coming …but it’s just an illusion …
Wolf it down faster than I would have liked, which only makes me more grumpy, and go meet E.
We decide to get some air.
E has forgotten his shades (they’re in his room) and his hat (it’s in the UK) and he doesn’t like his sun cream. So he isn’t wearing any. And it’s 98F.
This prompts another big lecture from me on sunstroke, skin cancer, bla bla bla ....
I’m like a nagging fishwife as we embark on the great hat hunt to protect his bald bits.
We check out all sorts of hats with various Vegas slogans – but E wants it plain.
I suggest getting one with ‘Slotty Bigballs’ put on ....but he’s not keen.
We end up in the Miracle Mile shops…but still can’t find one to E’s liking.
So, into Planet Hollywood in search of a coffee.
And there, in the casino, we find The World’s Quietest Starbucks.
Mark my words – years to come this will be a Trivial Pursuit question.
Q. Where is the world’s quietest Starbucks?
A In the casino at Planet Hollywood.
There is no one in it. I mean NO ONE.
Literally.
With a staff ratio that far out numbers its customers – us – we enjoy the novelty of having the place to ourselves.
Coffee and quiet ambience enjoyed, we go play a few slots…E is being careful despite his big win….and so am I .. I just don’t ‘feel lucky’ yet…and sure enough I shed a few more dollars.
So we decide to head for The Bellagio for a scout around. We have another Meet n Greet tonight in the Fontana bar and thought we’d do a recce first.
The Bellagio is as richly inviting as ever –you can’t fail to luxuriate in its all enveloping opulence - and once again we wonder why we haven’t stayed here.
There is an answer of course.
We haven’t spent the money…
There’s an exhibition just off the main lobby – beautiful flower beds being watered by dancing mini fountains, laced with little locomotive trains and overlooked by 2 huge animatronic Eagles in a nest…it’s a riot of colour and all quite surreal and we love it.
Head back to the Mirage as by now we are both feeling abit rough. The heat and the lag are conspiring against us …
E calls it ‘ The Day 2 UK Jetlag Syndrome’.
We have a date with Cher and a Meet n Greet tonight …so a bit of shut eye is in order…..
Don’t want to be less than sunny for Cher! And don’t want to be boring Brits at the Bellagio …….so, despite not wanting to waste a single Vegas second…. a few zzzzzzzzzz ‘s are now a must………………
*
Coming up next….Agog at Cher’s perennial youth …and meeting Mr&Mrs Evoni and Pruske ……
E had insisted he’d be sleeping til 11 – but I knew he wouldn’t. The lag doesn’t legislate for how few hours you’ve slept – just what time zone you’re in…..and your brain will be prodding you awake regardless of how long you’ve been in the arms of Morpheus….
I killed some time, and then called E at 10.30. He was up -as I knew he would be-and had already had room service breakfast.
‘Selfish git! ‘I exclaimed …( told you I was in a bad mood!)…’but I was hungry’ he said ‘and I thought I’d let you sleep’……( he does tend to panic about eating…)
I grumpily lectured him on jetlag and pointed out that, no matter what time we both hit the sack, our body clocks would be in sync…and now I had to do breakfast on my own.
E said room service took half an hour, the buffet q was long again… so I headed back to the Caribe café…
‘Would you like to sit at the counter?’ Said the maitre d’ …
’Ok then’, I said, thinking it would be like a breakfast bar and save me time - and them a table.
And it is like a breakfast bar ..
Except that we singletons are all seated along one side in a very long line,
Quite frankly, it felt like animals’ feeding time.
I order something quick and easy. Bacon and eggs, tea and toast.
And I wait.
And wait.
And wait…….
I am already feeling like Billy No Mates …..
But now I appear to be Billy No Plates as well…
I look on hungrily as others are served - but the waiters scurry back to the kitchens before I can grab one.
After 15 minutes I nicely ask the ‘water man’ if my order will be coming soon.
‘Yes’ he replies enigmatically, a faint smile playing about his lips -but he doesn’t go off and tell anyone.
I am beginning to think that, like at registration, if you ask the wrong person -you won’t get a result.
After 20 minutes I manage to grab a waiter. And politely remind him of my order.
The man seated next to me leans over. ‘I would have complained after 10 minutes’ he says and is amazed at my patience …’Ah’, I say ‘we’re used to this in the UK !’ but admit it’s a surprise in the country famed for its customer service.
Or perhaps this is another ‘Mirage’ ..I think I can see my breakfast coming …but it’s just an illusion …
Wolf it down faster than I would have liked, which only makes me more grumpy, and go meet E.
We decide to get some air.
E has forgotten his shades (they’re in his room) and his hat (it’s in the UK) and he doesn’t like his sun cream. So he isn’t wearing any. And it’s 98F.
This prompts another big lecture from me on sunstroke, skin cancer, bla bla bla ....
I’m like a nagging fishwife as we embark on the great hat hunt to protect his bald bits.
We check out all sorts of hats with various Vegas slogans – but E wants it plain.
I suggest getting one with ‘Slotty Bigballs’ put on ....but he’s not keen.
We end up in the Miracle Mile shops…but still can’t find one to E’s liking.
So, into Planet Hollywood in search of a coffee.
And there, in the casino, we find The World’s Quietest Starbucks.
Mark my words – years to come this will be a Trivial Pursuit question.
Q. Where is the world’s quietest Starbucks?
A In the casino at Planet Hollywood.
There is no one in it. I mean NO ONE.
Literally.
With a staff ratio that far out numbers its customers – us – we enjoy the novelty of having the place to ourselves.
Coffee and quiet ambience enjoyed, we go play a few slots…E is being careful despite his big win….and so am I .. I just don’t ‘feel lucky’ yet…and sure enough I shed a few more dollars.
So we decide to head for The Bellagio for a scout around. We have another Meet n Greet tonight in the Fontana bar and thought we’d do a recce first.
The Bellagio is as richly inviting as ever –you can’t fail to luxuriate in its all enveloping opulence - and once again we wonder why we haven’t stayed here.
There is an answer of course.
We haven’t spent the money…
There’s an exhibition just off the main lobby – beautiful flower beds being watered by dancing mini fountains, laced with little locomotive trains and overlooked by 2 huge animatronic Eagles in a nest…it’s a riot of colour and all quite surreal and we love it.
Head back to the Mirage as by now we are both feeling abit rough. The heat and the lag are conspiring against us …
E calls it ‘ The Day 2 UK Jetlag Syndrome’.
We have a date with Cher and a Meet n Greet tonight …so a bit of shut eye is in order…..
Don’t want to be less than sunny for Cher! And don’t want to be boring Brits at the Bellagio …….so, despite not wanting to waste a single Vegas second…. a few zzzzzzzzzz ‘s are now a must………………
*
Coming up next….Agog at Cher’s perennial youth …and meeting Mr&Mrs Evoni and Pruske ……
If I could turn back time ...
If I Could Turn Back Time ……(I’d probably look like Cher)
Rested and refreshed and we’re ready to go…
Refuel on pizza at The Mirage’s California Kitchen and head for Caesar’s for our date with the Queen of Plastic Fantastic.
We’d loved Elton John last year and now we’re full of anticipation for the spectacular to come…
The lights dim, and on a big, big screen a swirling vortex of planets and stars. It feels like you are rushing headlong into infinity.
The Bee Gees blast out ‘You Should be Dancing’…maybe, - but I want to see Cher first...
And then we do …as a huge golden Aztec throne floats out over the audience bearing the Diva herself – her cello deep tones wrapped throatily around U2 ‘s ‘Still haven’t found what I’m looking for…’
(One critc said she was probably referring to her wardrobe.)
It’s disco camp meets 60s retro – with a big dollop of Vegas. A riot of colour and sound.
All the hits, all the decades - reminding us just how long this lady’s been around.
Every song has a costume – and my! what costumes they are. Glitzy, glamorous, with lashings of frou frou. The Cher we’ve come to expect.
‘Believe’ merits a sheer black lacy bodystocking that leaves little to the imagination…
(‘Would you let your grandmother go out dressed like that?’ said E)
Even from our seats up high it’s extraordinary how good she looks. She’s 10 years older than me but has the body of someone 20 years younger…
Whenever she's off changing cosi – which is after every song – we are treated to cirque-style aerial acrobatics, her backing band and dancers, or clips from her life, movies and tv shows…
‘I Got You Babe’ - a tribute to Sonny.
And there they both are on the big screen, fresh faced from what seems like an age of innocence….
It's more like ‘I Got YouTube’ ….but it’s touching never the less…
There’s no denying - it’s one helluva glitzfest …but when Cher's done ….she’s done.
No encore…..no goodbye.
It felt like it was in her contract : “ I do 90 minutes …and that’s your lot……”
And given that she’s offstage for much of it – that 90 minutes sure goes by fast…
Did we enjoy it?
Well, yes we did ... we just wanted a little less costume concentration, – a little more action…
But, as E says, you have to see these people before they die ……
Or we do! …. I always reply….
* Up next ….TA Friends and Fountains …our second Meet n Greet …..
Rested and refreshed and we’re ready to go…
Refuel on pizza at The Mirage’s California Kitchen and head for Caesar’s for our date with the Queen of Plastic Fantastic.
We’d loved Elton John last year and now we’re full of anticipation for the spectacular to come…
The lights dim, and on a big, big screen a swirling vortex of planets and stars. It feels like you are rushing headlong into infinity.
The Bee Gees blast out ‘You Should be Dancing’…maybe, - but I want to see Cher first...
And then we do …as a huge golden Aztec throne floats out over the audience bearing the Diva herself – her cello deep tones wrapped throatily around U2 ‘s ‘Still haven’t found what I’m looking for…’
(One critc said she was probably referring to her wardrobe.)
It’s disco camp meets 60s retro – with a big dollop of Vegas. A riot of colour and sound.
All the hits, all the decades - reminding us just how long this lady’s been around.
Every song has a costume – and my! what costumes they are. Glitzy, glamorous, with lashings of frou frou. The Cher we’ve come to expect.
‘Believe’ merits a sheer black lacy bodystocking that leaves little to the imagination…
(‘Would you let your grandmother go out dressed like that?’ said E)
Even from our seats up high it’s extraordinary how good she looks. She’s 10 years older than me but has the body of someone 20 years younger…
Whenever she's off changing cosi – which is after every song – we are treated to cirque-style aerial acrobatics, her backing band and dancers, or clips from her life, movies and tv shows…
‘I Got You Babe’ - a tribute to Sonny.
And there they both are on the big screen, fresh faced from what seems like an age of innocence….
It's more like ‘I Got YouTube’ ….but it’s touching never the less…
There’s no denying - it’s one helluva glitzfest …but when Cher's done ….she’s done.
No encore…..no goodbye.
It felt like it was in her contract : “ I do 90 minutes …and that’s your lot……”
And given that she’s offstage for much of it – that 90 minutes sure goes by fast…
Did we enjoy it?
Well, yes we did ... we just wanted a little less costume concentration, – a little more action…
But, as E says, you have to see these people before they die ……
Or we do! …. I always reply….
* Up next ….TA Friends and Fountains …our second Meet n Greet …..
The Bellagio Fountains ...
Time to Say Hello …at the Fountains
After Cher we made our way to the Bellagio.
No longer Meet n Greet virgins, but just hoping we won’t be dull company in our jet lagged state….luckily, like a shot in the arm, Cher has woken us up a bit .
I forgot to mention I’d bought a sparkly union jack belt to wear so people could spot me at the Meet & Greets.
Tonight it didn’t quite match what I was wearing (dark green & black silk skirt, black top)… but it felt abit kitsch ‘a la Cher’, and in Vegas who cares?.. …
E had the temerity to comment
‘It doesn’t really go does it’?
I am miffed…this from a man who’s more Devil wears Primark than Prada…
(Not sure if there’s Primark in the US – but think Walmart and you’ll get the idea.)
Nothing wrong with that, but E and I have often wrangled over the issue of clothes…he’d rather spend money on a good steak than a good shirt whereas I, – while not exactly a designer queen – am still happy to spend £££ on good quality clothes.
My argument usually runs like this…..
Me : At least my wardrobe will last me awhile – whereas your steak will be disappearing down the toilet tomorrow …
E : No comment
(Sorry to talk lavatorial …. I digress….)
We peer inside the Fontana bar and, as we turn round, 2 friendly faces come towards us.
Evoni and ‘Mr’ Evoni .
Warm greetings all round...
Evoni has cleverly reserved a table on the Fontana balcony and it’s a real treat…( thank you Ev – brilliant choice!)
The evening is warm, we have a breathtaking view of the Fountains and the conversation flows….
Not long into a delicious cocktail and one of the bar staff comes over. ‘Are you all ‘Trip Reporters?’ – ‘Yes!’ we cry in unison – knowing what she means …
It heralds the arrival of Pruske and Mr P to join us….
We are all chatting away happily ….
And then I go and open my big mouth….
‘So what do you all think about your election then?’
Pause.
Our new American friends look at each other.
You could hear that pin dropping at the Stratosphere …
I start to mumble apologetically …’well, um, it’s just that America is the most powerful country in the western world, and what happens here will affect us all …and I ..er… just wondered what you all thought……....sorry…’ ……my voice tailing off weakly….
Now I KNOW you should never talk politics in social gatherings …but this is my chance to get some personal opinions – rather than listen to some tv pundit’s analysis on CNN every day…
Fortunately for me, our American companions are gracious in their forgiveness and it’s a privilege to hear their views. It’s a real insight - fascinating and illuminating, and I thank you all very much.
By 11 ish the lag is beginning to take its toll and we say our reluctant goodbyes. The next clock hour is midnight and, like Cinders, E and I have to slip away.
The lag was nibbling at the edge of my brain, and, as we walk home, it’s not just our hotel – but Vegas - that seems like a mirage… ……
Post script….
Couldn’t resist one quick gamble though …as we walked through the Mirage casino Dean Martin’s Wild Party called out to me….I wasn’t feeling particularly wild, so I just put in $10. The old crooner promptly turned it into $50 and I trotted off to bed happy. Thanks Dino!
Things were beginning to look up….!
*
On the way next:
Meeting and Greeting at The Peppermill …and Panda- monium at The Wynn!
After Cher we made our way to the Bellagio.
No longer Meet n Greet virgins, but just hoping we won’t be dull company in our jet lagged state….luckily, like a shot in the arm, Cher has woken us up a bit .
I forgot to mention I’d bought a sparkly union jack belt to wear so people could spot me at the Meet & Greets.
Tonight it didn’t quite match what I was wearing (dark green & black silk skirt, black top)… but it felt abit kitsch ‘a la Cher’, and in Vegas who cares?.. …
E had the temerity to comment
‘It doesn’t really go does it’?
I am miffed…this from a man who’s more Devil wears Primark than Prada…
(Not sure if there’s Primark in the US – but think Walmart and you’ll get the idea.)
Nothing wrong with that, but E and I have often wrangled over the issue of clothes…he’d rather spend money on a good steak than a good shirt whereas I, – while not exactly a designer queen – am still happy to spend £££ on good quality clothes.
My argument usually runs like this…..
Me : At least my wardrobe will last me awhile – whereas your steak will be disappearing down the toilet tomorrow …
E : No comment
(Sorry to talk lavatorial …. I digress….)
We peer inside the Fontana bar and, as we turn round, 2 friendly faces come towards us.
Evoni and ‘Mr’ Evoni .
Warm greetings all round...
Evoni has cleverly reserved a table on the Fontana balcony and it’s a real treat…( thank you Ev – brilliant choice!)
The evening is warm, we have a breathtaking view of the Fountains and the conversation flows….
Not long into a delicious cocktail and one of the bar staff comes over. ‘Are you all ‘Trip Reporters?’ – ‘Yes!’ we cry in unison – knowing what she means …
It heralds the arrival of Pruske and Mr P to join us….
We are all chatting away happily ….
And then I go and open my big mouth….
‘So what do you all think about your election then?’
Pause.
Our new American friends look at each other.
You could hear that pin dropping at the Stratosphere …
I start to mumble apologetically …’well, um, it’s just that America is the most powerful country in the western world, and what happens here will affect us all …and I ..er… just wondered what you all thought……....sorry…’ ……my voice tailing off weakly….
Now I KNOW you should never talk politics in social gatherings …but this is my chance to get some personal opinions – rather than listen to some tv pundit’s analysis on CNN every day…
Fortunately for me, our American companions are gracious in their forgiveness and it’s a privilege to hear their views. It’s a real insight - fascinating and illuminating, and I thank you all very much.
By 11 ish the lag is beginning to take its toll and we say our reluctant goodbyes. The next clock hour is midnight and, like Cinders, E and I have to slip away.
The lag was nibbling at the edge of my brain, and, as we walk home, it’s not just our hotel – but Vegas - that seems like a mirage… ……
Post script….
Couldn’t resist one quick gamble though …as we walked through the Mirage casino Dean Martin’s Wild Party called out to me….I wasn’t feeling particularly wild, so I just put in $10. The old crooner promptly turned it into $50 and I trotted off to bed happy. Thanks Dino!
Things were beginning to look up….!
*
On the way next:
Meeting and Greeting at The Peppermill …and Panda- monium at The Wynn!
Fireside Tales...
Wednesday. Started the day with the milk run …this involves peering round the door, furtively looking up and down the corridor, grabbing a jug from the nearest discarded tray … and nipping back to my room sharpish.
Kettle on. Tea. Cigarette. Contemplate the day ahead.
It’s a big one – our 3rd and largest Meet n Greet at the Peppermill’s Fireside Lounge.
Although I am feeling a bit more adjusted to the LV time zone,
bizarrely I’ve woken up with my Vegas rash again.
I was plagued by it last year – and, like last year, it’s under one arm only….it looks like I’ve been branded in some strange Vegas ritual…
Realisation dawns.
I sleep curled up on one side, the duvet tucked up under my armpit. …
I must be allergic to whatever they wash the sheets in……
Great.
Ring E and arrange to meet in the lift lobby.
On the way down, a very smooth Bostonian gets chatty…I’ve never been chatted up in a lift before, but think that if he saw my rash it would hardly be conducive to Love in an Elevator.
Meet E and moan about my affliction. He regards me as if I am leper
He’s still disgruntled about his bathroom so I figure we are equal in the moaning stakes.
‘Well, this is the Mirage’, I say …’what you see …is not what you get!’
(Except a rash)
At the breakfast buffet we embark on the Tea Ritual. For some reason all our numerous tea bag dunking and dipping and squeezing is a source of fascination to our fellow diners...and we feel a bit like a Siegfried and Roy exhibit.
Forget the tigers, come see the Brits playing with their teabags!
Breakfast done, it’s still nice and early and the casino is quiet …Time for a vodka and orange juice….E joins me, figuring that when in Vegas …….
I introduce him to Dean Martin’s Wild Party ….not big on partying wildly , nevertheless he loves it and, as Dino croons, he promptly wins $85. He definitely has The Midas Touch this trip.
We’ve decided to split up today and do our own thing until Peppermill Time…so for me it’s time to go shopping ! I hit the Forum shops, have a good old browse and emerge some time later laden with goodies - cosmetics and toiletries from Victoria’s Secret. We don’t have Vic’s Secret in the UK so I am shopping early for Christmas pressies …
On the way back I spot an old ‘friend’ in the Mirage casino …The Milk Race.
In 2005, my friend 'S' and I had come to regard this slot as our personal ATM and had renamed it the ‘Cash Cow’…3 years later it’s still fertile, and before you know it, I’ve milked it of $85 …(very apt for a proficient milk jug stealer)
Time to get ready for the Peppermill and our 3rd, and the biggest, of our Meet n Greets …
Frocked up, and sparkly belted so people can spot me, I meet up with E again. He’s spent the afternoon exploring the Rio and The Palms and was quite taken with both.
We head out to walk to The Peppermill in the sweltering heat. (He’s still not got a hat on or shades or sun cream – but if he’s not worried, who am I to point this out? I do anyway.)
With no clue at all from the outside, The Peppermill Fireside Lounge turns out to be fabulous and we can see why it’s such a Vegas forum favourite. It feels abit rat packy …all dark and moody mirrors and shadows, electric blue and purple neon lighting, and low level plush velvet nooks and crannies that you can sink into and lose yourself.
In the middle –true to it’s name, a fake fire is blazing –it seems incongruous when its 100 degrees outside but it adds to the whole cosy secret feel.
E and I settle at the bar to wait ….I tell him he’s looking a bit lounge lizardy – it’s that kinda place.
First to arrive –familiar faces… the Funinhounslows ….We are dying to tell Fun about E’s win to trump his $800. He is suitably impressed but won’t be out-trumped , pointing out that they ,after all, are staying at The Wynn on a ‘Steve’ special deal…
( Forget out-trumped – he definitely had us outwynned…) ..
And …he’d won the Great Guess E’s Name Competition that I'd run on the forum..…. so I honoured my promise of a drink and presented him with his prize …a magnificently large Bloody Mary. (It was his second …and it was followed by a 2- strawed Scorpion …and, you know, he didn’t seem to turn a hair. My turn to be impressed.)
Next comes Bonsmom, closely followed by Ironicisme …both as sharp and sassy as New York can be. Both forum stalwarts, both seasoned Vegasites – both a great source of Vegas stories, then -and now, which we eagerly lapped up. Thank you ladies!
They’re followed by our personal slot queen Malv, and, rounding off the party, 2 more fellow Brits. The youngest of us all, but already Vegas veterans, 1976cac and her other half, M, -both hailing from the same neck of the woods as E, right down to the same few UK square miles …
What can I tell you…to echo FuninH, The Peppermill is a great find. You have to go there. It feels like a special secret place all of your own- even though I know it’s a famous Vegas haunt. And it’s a great place for an M&G.
After a couple of convivial hours some us had to go and some of us stayed ..and Malv, the Hounslows and E and I moved into the restaurant. (Plenty of variety,– excellent value).
The M&G had been wonderful fun, and very easy …there had been lots to talk about and we’d all got on famously …and we raised a glass to TA to mark the occasion…
1976cac had taken a liking to my sparkly M&G belt and as it suited her better than me it seemed right and fitting that she should have it….. Cas, if we meet again in Vegas promise me you’ll wear it!
Ironic …I want to hear why your life is ‘ironic’! And Bonsmom …– thank you too for your wonderful New York stories …as well as your Vegas ones
FuninH and B …I wish I’d ordered a Scorpion! Next time! ( Perhaps in London!)
It was great to meet you all....
By the way …that night Malv confirmed my growing suspicions that our hotel was living up to its name. (Let me explain).
Malv had tried to call me at the Mirage to confirm our meeting time for the M&G.
She had my full name but not my room number.
The Mirage denied I existed, saying there was no registered guest with my name in the hotel.
So now I was beginning to think it was me…. who was a mirage …….
Kettle on. Tea. Cigarette. Contemplate the day ahead.
It’s a big one – our 3rd and largest Meet n Greet at the Peppermill’s Fireside Lounge.
Although I am feeling a bit more adjusted to the LV time zone,
bizarrely I’ve woken up with my Vegas rash again.
I was plagued by it last year – and, like last year, it’s under one arm only….it looks like I’ve been branded in some strange Vegas ritual…
Realisation dawns.
I sleep curled up on one side, the duvet tucked up under my armpit. …
I must be allergic to whatever they wash the sheets in……
Great.
Ring E and arrange to meet in the lift lobby.
On the way down, a very smooth Bostonian gets chatty…I’ve never been chatted up in a lift before, but think that if he saw my rash it would hardly be conducive to Love in an Elevator.
Meet E and moan about my affliction. He regards me as if I am leper
He’s still disgruntled about his bathroom so I figure we are equal in the moaning stakes.
‘Well, this is the Mirage’, I say …’what you see …is not what you get!’
(Except a rash)
At the breakfast buffet we embark on the Tea Ritual. For some reason all our numerous tea bag dunking and dipping and squeezing is a source of fascination to our fellow diners...and we feel a bit like a Siegfried and Roy exhibit.
Forget the tigers, come see the Brits playing with their teabags!
Breakfast done, it’s still nice and early and the casino is quiet …Time for a vodka and orange juice….E joins me, figuring that when in Vegas …….
I introduce him to Dean Martin’s Wild Party ….not big on partying wildly , nevertheless he loves it and, as Dino croons, he promptly wins $85. He definitely has The Midas Touch this trip.
We’ve decided to split up today and do our own thing until Peppermill Time…so for me it’s time to go shopping ! I hit the Forum shops, have a good old browse and emerge some time later laden with goodies - cosmetics and toiletries from Victoria’s Secret. We don’t have Vic’s Secret in the UK so I am shopping early for Christmas pressies …
On the way back I spot an old ‘friend’ in the Mirage casino …The Milk Race.
In 2005, my friend 'S' and I had come to regard this slot as our personal ATM and had renamed it the ‘Cash Cow’…3 years later it’s still fertile, and before you know it, I’ve milked it of $85 …(very apt for a proficient milk jug stealer)
Time to get ready for the Peppermill and our 3rd, and the biggest, of our Meet n Greets …
Frocked up, and sparkly belted so people can spot me, I meet up with E again. He’s spent the afternoon exploring the Rio and The Palms and was quite taken with both.
We head out to walk to The Peppermill in the sweltering heat. (He’s still not got a hat on or shades or sun cream – but if he’s not worried, who am I to point this out? I do anyway.)
With no clue at all from the outside, The Peppermill Fireside Lounge turns out to be fabulous and we can see why it’s such a Vegas forum favourite. It feels abit rat packy …all dark and moody mirrors and shadows, electric blue and purple neon lighting, and low level plush velvet nooks and crannies that you can sink into and lose yourself.
In the middle –true to it’s name, a fake fire is blazing –it seems incongruous when its 100 degrees outside but it adds to the whole cosy secret feel.
E and I settle at the bar to wait ….I tell him he’s looking a bit lounge lizardy – it’s that kinda place.
First to arrive –familiar faces… the Funinhounslows ….We are dying to tell Fun about E’s win to trump his $800. He is suitably impressed but won’t be out-trumped , pointing out that they ,after all, are staying at The Wynn on a ‘Steve’ special deal…
( Forget out-trumped – he definitely had us outwynned…) ..
And …he’d won the Great Guess E’s Name Competition that I'd run on the forum..…. so I honoured my promise of a drink and presented him with his prize …a magnificently large Bloody Mary. (It was his second …and it was followed by a 2- strawed Scorpion …and, you know, he didn’t seem to turn a hair. My turn to be impressed.)
Next comes Bonsmom, closely followed by Ironicisme …both as sharp and sassy as New York can be. Both forum stalwarts, both seasoned Vegasites – both a great source of Vegas stories, then -and now, which we eagerly lapped up. Thank you ladies!
They’re followed by our personal slot queen Malv, and, rounding off the party, 2 more fellow Brits. The youngest of us all, but already Vegas veterans, 1976cac and her other half, M, -both hailing from the same neck of the woods as E, right down to the same few UK square miles …
What can I tell you…to echo FuninH, The Peppermill is a great find. You have to go there. It feels like a special secret place all of your own- even though I know it’s a famous Vegas haunt. And it’s a great place for an M&G.
After a couple of convivial hours some us had to go and some of us stayed ..and Malv, the Hounslows and E and I moved into the restaurant. (Plenty of variety,– excellent value).
The M&G had been wonderful fun, and very easy …there had been lots to talk about and we’d all got on famously …and we raised a glass to TA to mark the occasion…
1976cac had taken a liking to my sparkly M&G belt and as it suited her better than me it seemed right and fitting that she should have it….. Cas, if we meet again in Vegas promise me you’ll wear it!
Ironic …I want to hear why your life is ‘ironic’! And Bonsmom …– thank you too for your wonderful New York stories …as well as your Vegas ones
FuninH and B …I wish I’d ordered a Scorpion! Next time! ( Perhaps in London!)
It was great to meet you all....
By the way …that night Malv confirmed my growing suspicions that our hotel was living up to its name. (Let me explain).
Malv had tried to call me at the Mirage to confirm our meeting time for the M&G.
She had my full name but not my room number.
The Mirage denied I existed, saying there was no registered guest with my name in the hotel.
So now I was beginning to think it was me…. who was a mirage …….
Panda-monium!
After dinner, we said goodbye to the Hounslows who had an early morning flight – and then E, Malv and I were ready for a gamble …
The Riviera was twinkling at us from across the road. Famous for being a location for various Vegas movies (among them, my favourite, Casino) I wanted to check it out. It seemed abit sad and faded to me …..any hint of it’s former glory just an echo in Vegas time.
So we didn’t stay long.
But we weren’t done yet, and with E’s previous luck in mind, we headed back to The Wynn.
The Wynn is definitely E’s lucky place …but he was a little more careful now he’d banked up some ‘wynnings’….
The Wild Waves weren’t being quite so wild paying out, so he moved on….
and 3 Pandas caught his eye…..
Panda-ring (sorry!) to E’s max lines at 1c a line, The Pandas gave him 180 free spins.
Yes, You read that right. 180.
He was kicking himself as each spin racked up a few more credits. It took forever to get through them all and at the end he had $250. Pretty damn good! …but E was a man now used to bigger money. And he hadn’t adhered to his ‘play big to win big’ philosophy. He’s still kicking himself about it to this day…
After all, if you are going to be Slotty Bigballs ...you have to bet big!
All three of us had a bit of luck that night. Sitting side by side with E and his Pandas …Malv picked up $200 on Hexbreaker2 and I cashed out $110 from Coyote Moon.
So we quit while we were ahead …and, with a kind offer from Malv to drive us Downtown the next day, …at 1.30 we called it night ….
The Riviera was twinkling at us from across the road. Famous for being a location for various Vegas movies (among them, my favourite, Casino) I wanted to check it out. It seemed abit sad and faded to me …..any hint of it’s former glory just an echo in Vegas time.
So we didn’t stay long.
But we weren’t done yet, and with E’s previous luck in mind, we headed back to The Wynn.
The Wynn is definitely E’s lucky place …but he was a little more careful now he’d banked up some ‘wynnings’….
The Wild Waves weren’t being quite so wild paying out, so he moved on….
and 3 Pandas caught his eye…..
Panda-ring (sorry!) to E’s max lines at 1c a line, The Pandas gave him 180 free spins.
Yes, You read that right. 180.
He was kicking himself as each spin racked up a few more credits. It took forever to get through them all and at the end he had $250. Pretty damn good! …but E was a man now used to bigger money. And he hadn’t adhered to his ‘play big to win big’ philosophy. He’s still kicking himself about it to this day…
After all, if you are going to be Slotty Bigballs ...you have to bet big!
All three of us had a bit of luck that night. Sitting side by side with E and his Pandas …Malv picked up $200 on Hexbreaker2 and I cashed out $110 from Coyote Moon.
So we quit while we were ahead …and, with a kind offer from Malv to drive us Downtown the next day, …at 1.30 we called it night ….
Escalating Confusion ...and the Call of the Wild..
It was a strange night. Haunting cries echoed through my dreams. Not so much Vegas sirens …more like the plaintive call of a wounded animal….
And then I woke up.
The cries continued.
It was 03.00 am and someone was howling outside my door. It sounded like a dying moose. (Not that I know what a dying moose sounds like …there are not many of them about in urban London. But, to me, that’s what it sounded like. )
The moose continued to howl… followed by a lot of door thumping…fortunately not on mine.
’ Oi ..lemme in’ ! thump thump thump ..then some choice expletives . I recognised the accent …it was pure London. Finally, a door opened and all was quiet.
04.00 . More moose noises.
It was obviously some kind of ritualistic mating call. More banging and crashing and thumping… more effing and blinding….then, at last,quiet.
05.00 ‘Howwwwwwwl’ …..thump,thump,thump….
Here we go again…..by now I am ready to strangle a moose. It was obviously a boys’ night out and each of the participants was coming home one by one – their tribal mating call alerting their room mates..
Forget stag party – this was a Moose Party. I got out of bed with murder in mind …but as I reached my door …silence descended once again…..
Sleep …at last….
As you can imagine, after this, once again I didn’t start the day in the best humour. Called E around 09.00 feeling rough, with a voice that was coming from somewhere near my feet…it’s pretty deep at the best of times, but now I sounded like Steve Wynn on the Wynn website – or Don La Fontaine.
( RIP Don – the voice of a thousand movie trailers whose death would be announced on the news that day)
‘You don’t get Moose in the Signature ‘ said E when I told him about my night.
He’s a little bit ratty too…he still hasn’t got over the shock of his bath size and the randomness of the Mirage elevators is really beginning to bug him.
The TV weather had announced that it would be the hottest day of the week .108F is forecast. We have friends from the UK arriving tomorrow and the mad social whirl has been great so far, but, combined with the heat, exhausting. So we resolve to take it a bit easy.
Today I want to get my Macy’s discount card so after a buffet breakfast and the usual teabag scenario I head off to The Fashion Show Mall.
(International visitors – just go to Macy’s customer service desk with your passport and they will give you an 11% off card for nearly everything in the store…..even sale items.....fabulous)
E wanders off to do his own thing. Shopping with me did not entice. So it was a big surprise when we met up later to find that he’d been to the Fashion Show mall as well...
He’d obviously been skulking round the shops as I hadn’t spotted him once.
But …wonder of wonders, the last of the big spenders, with no apparent interest in clothes, he’d actually been to Gap and bought himself a shirt.
Mind you, it was one I’d suggested to him before and I’d been nagging him to buy it….and it was only $20 in the sale! )
As for me - I was now the proud owner of a Michael Kors dress – $140 – much cheaper than London - and the discount card making it even more of a great buy. I said, before, I'm not a designer queen - but I couldn’t resist, and I needed a little retail therapy after my disturbed night…
So, E and I had spent some dollars and he’d also checked out the Imperial Palace and taken quite a fancy to it. Not quite in keeping with his Big Winner status,I thought to myself.
Now it was time to meet Malvlover and head downtown.
We’d arranged the night before to meet her by some escalators in The Palazzo. E was confident he knew which ones. So we find the escalators and hang around at the pre-arranged time.
Imagine, if you will, the 3 of us like a swiss cuckoo clock…popping in and out of The Palazzo to try and find each other. E would go off to look. I would go and ring her room. She would nip out for a cigarette. I would go off to look. E would pop outside. M would go off to look for us.
This went on for an hour.
Suffice to say- we didn’t find each other.
My advice …there are better places to meet in Vegas than by any one of the Palazzo’s escalators! But you live and learn.
We were a bit worried, but figured something may have come up for M so I sent her a text saying we would catch the Deuce downtown and try and meet up with her later. But, unbeknown to me, my texts were taking hours to arrive … just to add to the escalating confusion. …
Head out to the bus stop up past The Wynn and the heat knocks us for six.
'Shall we get a taxi?' Says E.
I don’t want to – I’ve never ridden the Deuce and it’s on my list of Vegas things to do. E points out it is now late afternoon and the Deuce will be pretty busy and sweaty…so…after abit of debate, we abandon the plan altogether.
And yes, that means 3 Vegas trips and I STILL haven’t been Downtown! If it hadn’t been so hot
I would have gone…but trust me, it was a furnace out there…
So ..to assess the situation…….Malv is missing in action, and we aren’t going to make it downtown …..
What to do now?.......
…Up next …going crackers and ….where is Malv???
And then I woke up.
The cries continued.
It was 03.00 am and someone was howling outside my door. It sounded like a dying moose. (Not that I know what a dying moose sounds like …there are not many of them about in urban London. But, to me, that’s what it sounded like. )
The moose continued to howl… followed by a lot of door thumping…fortunately not on mine.
’ Oi ..lemme in’ ! thump thump thump ..then some choice expletives . I recognised the accent …it was pure London. Finally, a door opened and all was quiet.
04.00 . More moose noises.
It was obviously some kind of ritualistic mating call. More banging and crashing and thumping… more effing and blinding….then, at last,quiet.
05.00 ‘Howwwwwwwl’ …..thump,thump,thump….
Here we go again…..by now I am ready to strangle a moose. It was obviously a boys’ night out and each of the participants was coming home one by one – their tribal mating call alerting their room mates..
Forget stag party – this was a Moose Party. I got out of bed with murder in mind …but as I reached my door …silence descended once again…..
Sleep …at last….
As you can imagine, after this, once again I didn’t start the day in the best humour. Called E around 09.00 feeling rough, with a voice that was coming from somewhere near my feet…it’s pretty deep at the best of times, but now I sounded like Steve Wynn on the Wynn website – or Don La Fontaine.
( RIP Don – the voice of a thousand movie trailers whose death would be announced on the news that day)
‘You don’t get Moose in the Signature ‘ said E when I told him about my night.
He’s a little bit ratty too…he still hasn’t got over the shock of his bath size and the randomness of the Mirage elevators is really beginning to bug him.
The TV weather had announced that it would be the hottest day of the week .108F is forecast. We have friends from the UK arriving tomorrow and the mad social whirl has been great so far, but, combined with the heat, exhausting. So we resolve to take it a bit easy.
Today I want to get my Macy’s discount card so after a buffet breakfast and the usual teabag scenario I head off to The Fashion Show Mall.
(International visitors – just go to Macy’s customer service desk with your passport and they will give you an 11% off card for nearly everything in the store…..even sale items.....fabulous)
E wanders off to do his own thing. Shopping with me did not entice. So it was a big surprise when we met up later to find that he’d been to the Fashion Show mall as well...
He’d obviously been skulking round the shops as I hadn’t spotted him once.
But …wonder of wonders, the last of the big spenders, with no apparent interest in clothes, he’d actually been to Gap and bought himself a shirt.
Mind you, it was one I’d suggested to him before and I’d been nagging him to buy it….and it was only $20 in the sale! )
As for me - I was now the proud owner of a Michael Kors dress – $140 – much cheaper than London - and the discount card making it even more of a great buy. I said, before, I'm not a designer queen - but I couldn’t resist, and I needed a little retail therapy after my disturbed night…
So, E and I had spent some dollars and he’d also checked out the Imperial Palace and taken quite a fancy to it. Not quite in keeping with his Big Winner status,I thought to myself.
Now it was time to meet Malvlover and head downtown.
We’d arranged the night before to meet her by some escalators in The Palazzo. E was confident he knew which ones. So we find the escalators and hang around at the pre-arranged time.
Imagine, if you will, the 3 of us like a swiss cuckoo clock…popping in and out of The Palazzo to try and find each other. E would go off to look. I would go and ring her room. She would nip out for a cigarette. I would go off to look. E would pop outside. M would go off to look for us.
This went on for an hour.
Suffice to say- we didn’t find each other.
My advice …there are better places to meet in Vegas than by any one of the Palazzo’s escalators! But you live and learn.
We were a bit worried, but figured something may have come up for M so I sent her a text saying we would catch the Deuce downtown and try and meet up with her later. But, unbeknown to me, my texts were taking hours to arrive … just to add to the escalating confusion. …
Head out to the bus stop up past The Wynn and the heat knocks us for six.
'Shall we get a taxi?' Says E.
I don’t want to – I’ve never ridden the Deuce and it’s on my list of Vegas things to do. E points out it is now late afternoon and the Deuce will be pretty busy and sweaty…so…after abit of debate, we abandon the plan altogether.
And yes, that means 3 Vegas trips and I STILL haven’t been Downtown! If it hadn’t been so hot
I would have gone…but trust me, it was a furnace out there…
So ..to assess the situation…….Malv is missing in action, and we aren’t going to make it downtown …..
What to do now?.......
…Up next …going crackers and ….where is Malv???
Desperately seeking $$$ ...and Malv !
I know it seems like it’s getting to be a habit – but, with our downtown plan abandoned, we decide to walk back to The Wynn. I text Malv that we are heading that way, hoping that she will find us….
(I’m still oblivious to the fact that my texts are circumnavigating the globe and taking hours to arrive…)
By now, hunger has kicked in and the Wynn’s ZoozaCrackers Deli looks inviting…
Adhering to my philosophy of ‘when in America, sample the cuisine’ - I order a Chicken Caesar Salad.
Meanwhile, E is attracted by a taste of ‘home’ ...and orders Fish and Chips.
Now, a lot of the time, I regard food as fuel – while E is alot more picky about what he eats (readers of my last TR won’t be surprised to hear he’d brought his oatcakes with him again this year) - but I have to say both dishes were absolutely delicious with wonderfully fresh ingredients.
With a couple of beers and coffees, the bill came to around $20 each - and we both felt this was one of the best meals we’d had this trip. If you think the Wynn is going to be pricey …I urge you to go check out this Deli. Fantastic food – fantastic value. Absolutely delicious.
Stomachs satisfied, we plunge into the casino with anticipation. But …lady luck was not favouring us that night….
Maybe Steve Wynn had E’s card marked.
Or, maybe, because we were still Malv-less. (After all, she’d been our Wynn lucky charm) ..
None of our favourites were paying out. The 3 Pandas were in hibernation, the Wild Waves just a ripple, and the Coyotes turned their back on the Moon and merely yapped abit…..
…and there was still no sign of Malv..…
After a couple of hours we decided to play back at The Mirage – but once again we were chasing our dollars. Even Dean Martin wasn’t in a generous mood. We ended up cursing the old crooner that night - a sacrilege I know! But he was obviously after our $$ for a Rat Pack Party of his own - and we weren’t invited!)
So around midnight we threw in the towel and called it a night. I was still worrying about Malv as I climbed into bed …... when the phone rang….
Malv! Thank goodness....…we unravelled the escalator confusion –and figured out that my texts had been arriving way behind our movements… so she had been one step behind us all the way…..
I was just relieved she was ok.
The next day she was flying home to Ohio so we arranged to meet once more to say our goodbyes…
Coming Up Next …… A Goodbye, A Hello …and A Vegas Legend !
(I’m still oblivious to the fact that my texts are circumnavigating the globe and taking hours to arrive…)
By now, hunger has kicked in and the Wynn’s ZoozaCrackers Deli looks inviting…
Adhering to my philosophy of ‘when in America, sample the cuisine’ - I order a Chicken Caesar Salad.
Meanwhile, E is attracted by a taste of ‘home’ ...and orders Fish and Chips.
Now, a lot of the time, I regard food as fuel – while E is alot more picky about what he eats (readers of my last TR won’t be surprised to hear he’d brought his oatcakes with him again this year) - but I have to say both dishes were absolutely delicious with wonderfully fresh ingredients.
With a couple of beers and coffees, the bill came to around $20 each - and we both felt this was one of the best meals we’d had this trip. If you think the Wynn is going to be pricey …I urge you to go check out this Deli. Fantastic food – fantastic value. Absolutely delicious.
Stomachs satisfied, we plunge into the casino with anticipation. But …lady luck was not favouring us that night….
Maybe Steve Wynn had E’s card marked.
Or, maybe, because we were still Malv-less. (After all, she’d been our Wynn lucky charm) ..
None of our favourites were paying out. The 3 Pandas were in hibernation, the Wild Waves just a ripple, and the Coyotes turned their back on the Moon and merely yapped abit…..
…and there was still no sign of Malv..…
After a couple of hours we decided to play back at The Mirage – but once again we were chasing our dollars. Even Dean Martin wasn’t in a generous mood. We ended up cursing the old crooner that night - a sacrilege I know! But he was obviously after our $$ for a Rat Pack Party of his own - and we weren’t invited!)
So around midnight we threw in the towel and called it a night. I was still worrying about Malv as I climbed into bed …... when the phone rang….
Malv! Thank goodness....…we unravelled the escalator confusion –and figured out that my texts had been arriving way behind our movements… so she had been one step behind us all the way…..
I was just relieved she was ok.
The next day she was flying home to Ohio so we arranged to meet once more to say our goodbyes…
Coming Up Next …… A Goodbye, A Hello …and A Vegas Legend !
A new Vegas day …and I had Friday on My Mind…
Started the day with my usual milk run up and down the corridor, then off to meet E for breakfast. The hotel was filling up for the weekend again so, of course, half the elevators were out of action for ‘maintenance.
This irritated E so much that he greeted 2 new arrivals in the lift lobby with ‘Welcome to the hotel that doesn’t work’.
He can be very droll at the best of times.
‘What did they say?’ I asked…
’They didn’t,’ he said, ’they just looked at me. They’ll find out soon enough …when they see the size of their bathroom...’
Another haphazard Mirage buffet. We’d worked out the layout by now …( it had taken all week) - of course the cereal would be by the desserts…silly us …
Brown toast? Not today! …. Bacon and eggs?…..The chicken’s delivered but you may just have to catch the pig yourself…
Now I know it sounds like I am being a bit sniffy, but the vagaries of the Mirage buffet did puzzle us at the best of times…
You could queue for ever - only to find that, once you got in, half the tables were empty.
Irksome at the best of times…. but even more so when a busy weekend was here again.
Honey Nut Crunch? Or credit crunch? You decide…
‘Well, I suppose you get what you pay for ‘ I said
’Yes, but not when it’s a Mirage’ said E…
Malvlover was coming to meet us at midday for one last gamble before her flight so we rolled into the casino by 10 ish and started the day with a vodka and orange. (As you do. In Vegas.)
E found a new slot that took his fancy and it seemed to be paying out. ‘Don’t you tell people’ he said…’it’s not good for my image’. ‘Oh I don’t know’ said...
It was quite a suitable slot for a Macho Man…even if he hadn’t been In The Navy ..or stayed at the YMCA….
Yes, Village People Party had E boogie-ing along, reliving his disco youth …
Particularly when the bonus rounds kicked off…
I was getting enough discomania just watching him and laughing my head off.
Malv turned up around midday. And once again we ended up side by side with E who wouldn’t leave The Village People alone. I had fun with Golden Goose – which I renamed ‘Goosey Gander’ and we all won a bit and lost a bit and won a bit more…
Too soon, it was time to say goodbye to Malv…it had been a good fun week and we were a little bit sad to see her go. We’d made a new friend thanks to Trip Advisor and we’d enjoyed her company and hoped she’d enjoyed ours. She’d been our Lucky Charm….
But would Lady Luck be leaving on a jet plane with her? ….
Or would she stick around for new arrivals?
4 who were arriving later that day were my friends from the UK: Sandy, Adam and The Sarahs. As they sound like a 60s pop band they don’t mind being name checked…otherwise it would be S, S, S and A. Enough to confuse me, let alone you who may be reading this....
Oh, - and Lady Luck did stick around to greet them too…..
But we didn’t know that yet……..
Coming up…..Big hellos at the Bellagio and shaking maracas with Big Elvis…
Started the day with my usual milk run up and down the corridor, then off to meet E for breakfast. The hotel was filling up for the weekend again so, of course, half the elevators were out of action for ‘maintenance.
This irritated E so much that he greeted 2 new arrivals in the lift lobby with ‘Welcome to the hotel that doesn’t work’.
He can be very droll at the best of times.
‘What did they say?’ I asked…
’They didn’t,’ he said, ’they just looked at me. They’ll find out soon enough …when they see the size of their bathroom...’
Another haphazard Mirage buffet. We’d worked out the layout by now …( it had taken all week) - of course the cereal would be by the desserts…silly us …
Brown toast? Not today! …. Bacon and eggs?…..The chicken’s delivered but you may just have to catch the pig yourself…
Now I know it sounds like I am being a bit sniffy, but the vagaries of the Mirage buffet did puzzle us at the best of times…
You could queue for ever - only to find that, once you got in, half the tables were empty.
Irksome at the best of times…. but even more so when a busy weekend was here again.
Honey Nut Crunch? Or credit crunch? You decide…
‘Well, I suppose you get what you pay for ‘ I said
’Yes, but not when it’s a Mirage’ said E…
Malvlover was coming to meet us at midday for one last gamble before her flight so we rolled into the casino by 10 ish and started the day with a vodka and orange. (As you do. In Vegas.)
E found a new slot that took his fancy and it seemed to be paying out. ‘Don’t you tell people’ he said…’it’s not good for my image’. ‘Oh I don’t know’ said...
It was quite a suitable slot for a Macho Man…even if he hadn’t been In The Navy ..or stayed at the YMCA….
Yes, Village People Party had E boogie-ing along, reliving his disco youth …
Particularly when the bonus rounds kicked off…
I was getting enough discomania just watching him and laughing my head off.
Malv turned up around midday. And once again we ended up side by side with E who wouldn’t leave The Village People alone. I had fun with Golden Goose – which I renamed ‘Goosey Gander’ and we all won a bit and lost a bit and won a bit more…
Too soon, it was time to say goodbye to Malv…it had been a good fun week and we were a little bit sad to see her go. We’d made a new friend thanks to Trip Advisor and we’d enjoyed her company and hoped she’d enjoyed ours. She’d been our Lucky Charm….
But would Lady Luck be leaving on a jet plane with her? ….
Or would she stick around for new arrivals?
4 who were arriving later that day were my friends from the UK: Sandy, Adam and The Sarahs. As they sound like a 60s pop band they don’t mind being name checked…otherwise it would be S, S, S and A. Enough to confuse me, let alone you who may be reading this....
Oh, - and Lady Luck did stick around to greet them too…..
But we didn’t know that yet……..
Coming up…..Big hellos at the Bellagio and shaking maracas with Big Elvis…
Four Friends hit town for a Fun Vegas Friday...
The text arrived …..’We’re here!!’
Sandy and Sarah1 had driven through the scorching desert from LA, while Sarah2 and Adam were straight off their ‘Experience America’ coach tour.
Both roads led to the cool haven of their Vegas home for 3 days, The Bellagio, so I texted back to meet us on the Fontana Bar balcony.
I figured they’d be needing a drink.
Sandy and Sarah1 were old hands at Vegas - but for Adam and Sarah2 it was a whole new experience….
Rounded up E and legged it to The Bellagio to grab a balcony table.
2 newly weds and a photographer were patiently waiting for the next Fountain display for their wedding photos, and the late afternoon was warm and sultry and relaxing….
E and I enjoyed the ambience once again – thinking what a find Evoni had introduced us to.
As if on cue - at 5.30 on the dot, the Fountains exploded, the newly weds struck a pose and 4 excited Brits burst through the door, tumbling and shrieking and laughing… ..it certainly woke up the Fontana Bar… and I dread to think how some of those wedding photos turned out.
Drinks all round –interspersed with Fountain ooohhhs and ahhhhhs … everyone talking 10 to the dozen… Vegas hyper-excitement!
I’d been nominated tour guide for the evening so I hurry everyone up as we have a date with Big Elvis…
Head to Bill’s Gamblin’ Hall and get there just in time for the 6.30 show– grabbing the last table and chairs. Sandy does the honours and gets the beers in (he knows his priorities!) and before we have caught our breath, the Big Man with the even bigger voice is there before us, belting it out.
And the voice is extraordinary.
Close your eyes and it could be The King…………......but that’s not fair.
You may go for the novelty of an extremely ‘larger than life’ impersonation … but you soon start thinking – hey, this guy is terrific and the weight issue almost gets in the way.
He’s lost a fair amount in recent times and you start to hope, for his sake, he‘ll lose a lot more...
It’s a fun show and we are all cheering and hollering. At one point volunteers are asked for - to dance alongside him.
Sarah2 and Adam leap up with all the confidence of 20 somethings on the loose in Vegas …..but, it’s girlies Elvis wants, and poor Adam is sent back to his chair…
(shame!... Adam, you would have been a great Elvis rock n roller!)
Maracas are handed out and soon Sarah2 is shaking hers with abandon. Suffice to say - there was a whole lotta shakin’ going on.
We were impressed,. …and so was a fellow commonwealth citizen at the next table from Canada. (I’m not sure his missus was though, when he commandeered Sarah for his own personal dance…!)
All in all – the Big Man had us all shook up…..and it was all over too soon. Sandy mused that maybe there was scope for a whole series of ‘Big’ concerts …but we didn’t think Big Madonna or Big Kylie had quite the same ring…….
But forget being Big….
Big Elvis is a King in his own right. It’s not his size. It’s his voice that’s Big.
Go see him…he’s a Star …and he’s not Left the Building yet......
Next stop – food!
As Margaretaville was next door and I’d read good things about it on the forum, I figured it would be a good choice. Abit of a wait for a table on the top level, so I got a round of drinks in.
Now – you always read about the Vegas cliché of the lonely gambler drowning his sorrows in a drink. Well, dear reader, I found him.
At the bar, ‘Phil’ began to tell me his story. My shoulder obviously looked comforting enough to cry on…and his cheek was soon drunkenly pressed against mine in search of solace (at least I think that’s what he was looking for……)
Sorry, Phil, I didn’t stay to hear it all….but I had 4 excitable mates to look after …as well as E, who was being swept along on this new wave of enthusiasm.
A top level table outside, a fantastically warm evening, beers and cocktails, great company …and so much food we couldn’t finish it all… (including 2 plates of nachos that were piled as high as the Stratosphere.)
Stomachs filled …ready for more Vegas! Sandy suggested the Sirens so we mad dashed to Treasure Island by foot and tram, and once again, got there just in time. The crowd was huge, jostling for position, but a flash of our hotel room keys let us into the VIP enclosure and a good close up view…. (any MGM room key will let you in )…
We were also in the ‘wet zone’ – but what’s a bit of a splash between friends on a hot Vegas night!
The fun part of being with people who’ve never experienced Vegas before, is watching their faces.
I looked at Adam as he gazed up at the gyrating Siren /Pirate frenzy and he had the same look of wonder as a young child watching fireworks……...
Vegas was working its magic…
Pirate battle over, ship sunk, and E and I were flagging – after all, it had been a pretty full on week! So we headed for The Mirage for drinks and I figured we might have to let our new Vegas companions carry on partying into the night….
The Mirage was in full Friday night swing and everywhere was packed so we had a quick drink at the sports bar before our new arrivals headed off for a taste of Venice and a gondola ride …
E and I were ready to call it a night.
But as usual, I wanted my gamble before bed and spotted yet another 'old friend'…
In amongst the heaving crowds … I found the Frog Princess...
Now, when I say the crowd was heaving …I am not exaggerating…..as I played, one young thing was heaving into the ashcan beside me…it was that kind of night in the Mirage.
However, nothing was going to distract me! Hit the bonus – picked up a quick $50 and weaved my way through the revellers to bed….
It had been a great Vegas night ..I was pleased to see my friends and even more pleased they were having a good time ...
Tomorrow – we had a date with another legend …..at the Las Vegas Hilton!
Sandy and Sarah1 had driven through the scorching desert from LA, while Sarah2 and Adam were straight off their ‘Experience America’ coach tour.
Both roads led to the cool haven of their Vegas home for 3 days, The Bellagio, so I texted back to meet us on the Fontana Bar balcony.
I figured they’d be needing a drink.
Sandy and Sarah1 were old hands at Vegas - but for Adam and Sarah2 it was a whole new experience….
Rounded up E and legged it to The Bellagio to grab a balcony table.
2 newly weds and a photographer were patiently waiting for the next Fountain display for their wedding photos, and the late afternoon was warm and sultry and relaxing….
E and I enjoyed the ambience once again – thinking what a find Evoni had introduced us to.
As if on cue - at 5.30 on the dot, the Fountains exploded, the newly weds struck a pose and 4 excited Brits burst through the door, tumbling and shrieking and laughing… ..it certainly woke up the Fontana Bar… and I dread to think how some of those wedding photos turned out.
Drinks all round –interspersed with Fountain ooohhhs and ahhhhhs … everyone talking 10 to the dozen… Vegas hyper-excitement!
I’d been nominated tour guide for the evening so I hurry everyone up as we have a date with Big Elvis…
Head to Bill’s Gamblin’ Hall and get there just in time for the 6.30 show– grabbing the last table and chairs. Sandy does the honours and gets the beers in (he knows his priorities!) and before we have caught our breath, the Big Man with the even bigger voice is there before us, belting it out.
And the voice is extraordinary.
Close your eyes and it could be The King…………......but that’s not fair.
You may go for the novelty of an extremely ‘larger than life’ impersonation … but you soon start thinking – hey, this guy is terrific and the weight issue almost gets in the way.
He’s lost a fair amount in recent times and you start to hope, for his sake, he‘ll lose a lot more...
It’s a fun show and we are all cheering and hollering. At one point volunteers are asked for - to dance alongside him.
Sarah2 and Adam leap up with all the confidence of 20 somethings on the loose in Vegas …..but, it’s girlies Elvis wants, and poor Adam is sent back to his chair…
(shame!... Adam, you would have been a great Elvis rock n roller!)
Maracas are handed out and soon Sarah2 is shaking hers with abandon. Suffice to say - there was a whole lotta shakin’ going on.
We were impressed,. …and so was a fellow commonwealth citizen at the next table from Canada. (I’m not sure his missus was though, when he commandeered Sarah for his own personal dance…!)
All in all – the Big Man had us all shook up…..and it was all over too soon. Sandy mused that maybe there was scope for a whole series of ‘Big’ concerts …but we didn’t think Big Madonna or Big Kylie had quite the same ring…….
But forget being Big….
Big Elvis is a King in his own right. It’s not his size. It’s his voice that’s Big.
Go see him…he’s a Star …and he’s not Left the Building yet......
Next stop – food!
As Margaretaville was next door and I’d read good things about it on the forum, I figured it would be a good choice. Abit of a wait for a table on the top level, so I got a round of drinks in.
Now – you always read about the Vegas cliché of the lonely gambler drowning his sorrows in a drink. Well, dear reader, I found him.
At the bar, ‘Phil’ began to tell me his story. My shoulder obviously looked comforting enough to cry on…and his cheek was soon drunkenly pressed against mine in search of solace (at least I think that’s what he was looking for……)
Sorry, Phil, I didn’t stay to hear it all….but I had 4 excitable mates to look after …as well as E, who was being swept along on this new wave of enthusiasm.
A top level table outside, a fantastically warm evening, beers and cocktails, great company …and so much food we couldn’t finish it all… (including 2 plates of nachos that were piled as high as the Stratosphere.)
Stomachs filled …ready for more Vegas! Sandy suggested the Sirens so we mad dashed to Treasure Island by foot and tram, and once again, got there just in time. The crowd was huge, jostling for position, but a flash of our hotel room keys let us into the VIP enclosure and a good close up view…. (any MGM room key will let you in )…
We were also in the ‘wet zone’ – but what’s a bit of a splash between friends on a hot Vegas night!
The fun part of being with people who’ve never experienced Vegas before, is watching their faces.
I looked at Adam as he gazed up at the gyrating Siren /Pirate frenzy and he had the same look of wonder as a young child watching fireworks……...
Vegas was working its magic…
Pirate battle over, ship sunk, and E and I were flagging – after all, it had been a pretty full on week! So we headed for The Mirage for drinks and I figured we might have to let our new Vegas companions carry on partying into the night….
The Mirage was in full Friday night swing and everywhere was packed so we had a quick drink at the sports bar before our new arrivals headed off for a taste of Venice and a gondola ride …
E and I were ready to call it a night.
But as usual, I wanted my gamble before bed and spotted yet another 'old friend'…
In amongst the heaving crowds … I found the Frog Princess...
Now, when I say the crowd was heaving …I am not exaggerating…..as I played, one young thing was heaving into the ashcan beside me…it was that kind of night in the Mirage.
However, nothing was going to distract me! Hit the bonus – picked up a quick $50 and weaved my way through the revellers to bed….
It had been a great Vegas night ..I was pleased to see my friends and even more pleased they were having a good time ...
Tomorrow – we had a date with another legend …..at the Las Vegas Hilton!
"To sleep...per chance, to dream...."
Once again – it was a strange night. Once again …unearthly noises penetrated my deepest slumber. But this time I knew wasn’t dreaming.
It was 03.00 am. What appeared to be nothing less than a party was in full swing outside my room. Yelling and screaming and laughter… feet running up and down the corridor.
I was not happy. What with the jetlag and the moose escapade, I had hardly had a decent night’s sleep since I’d arrived.
I lay awake and waited. It was quite apparent that the party was not going to stop anytime soon.
So I wearily grabbed my robe and headed for the door.
In the corridor, a pack of wild, roaming drunks were shrieking and stumbling about. One young lass was incapable of standing up and every time she fell over again her companions screamed the house down. She was yelling – they were laughing. I was not amused.
‘Do you think you could quieten down – some people are trying to get some sleep’
I shouted up the corridor in as school mistressy a manner as I could muster.
This was met with a barrage of insults- most of which started with ‘F’. My card was marked.
I beat a hasty retreat. Terrific. Now I was public enemy number 1. Sure enough – the party headed my way – and as they stood outside my door, calling me every name under the sun, I knew in that moment that I would never stay at The Mirage again. Ever.
This was no 'Mirage'.
What was going on outside my door was a deeply unpleasant reality.
Now, E and I have dissected this one. It’s true to say that his corridor had no problems at all during his stay. Whereas I had had the mother of all moose nights, and now the party night from hell.
Yes -I was on the smoking floor and I know that tends to fit the psychological profile – smoking, drinking, gambling, partying, … …hey, I ‘ve done all those things too! …but this is meant to be a 4 star hotel of some class and reputation. I wouldn’t drunkenly roam the corridors in the middle of the night causing havoc. And I don’t expect anyone else to do that either.
I wasn’t entirely surprised – it was Friday night and the casino had been quite lively on the drinking front (remember the girl throwing up next to me in the ashcan?). Security had been out in force to police the lifts, and all in all The Mirage had been awash with revelry.
But back to my predicament. As the yelling and abuse continued outside my door I rang security. ‘There are random drunks prowling the corridors of the 12 th – could you come up and do something please’. And to their credit – they said they‘d send someone up right away. And they must have done, because, not long after, the cursing stopped and I heard stumbling footsteps hastily retreating.
All was quiet once again.
So it’s fair to say I didn’t start Saturday in the best humour either.
In the lift, 2 guys from Michigan made me laugh and invited me to hang out with them by the pool. So that put a smile back on my face…. (I tell you – it all goes on in the lifts in The Mirage!) .
Met E in the lobby – moaned about my night from hell. I decided it was about time I got something back from The Mirage and went to check out the comp situation. The players club gave me 2 champagne buffet vouchers – compensation of sorts I figured after the night I’d had……
Right said E - lets get at the bubbly. So we did. And then we hit the slots again – and the vodka and orange. I needed it that morning!
We had a leisurely morning’s gambling – nothing much to report – playing random slots as we went along. Not really winning a lot…but not really losing.
At some point we were going to hook up with Sandy, Adam and the Sarah’s and sort out the afternoon and evening.
Around midday a text arrived from Sandy.
Now, before I tell you what it said – I need to fill you in a bit …
Sandy loves Vegas – but he’s not a gambler.
He loves the shows, the restaurants, the Bellagio, the fountains, the whole wonderful 24/7 madness of it all.
He’s just not there for the gambling.
And this is what his text said:
“Just beaten E’s win. Spent $40. Won $3000”
It was 03.00 am. What appeared to be nothing less than a party was in full swing outside my room. Yelling and screaming and laughter… feet running up and down the corridor.
I was not happy. What with the jetlag and the moose escapade, I had hardly had a decent night’s sleep since I’d arrived.
I lay awake and waited. It was quite apparent that the party was not going to stop anytime soon.
So I wearily grabbed my robe and headed for the door.
In the corridor, a pack of wild, roaming drunks were shrieking and stumbling about. One young lass was incapable of standing up and every time she fell over again her companions screamed the house down. She was yelling – they were laughing. I was not amused.
‘Do you think you could quieten down – some people are trying to get some sleep’
I shouted up the corridor in as school mistressy a manner as I could muster.
This was met with a barrage of insults- most of which started with ‘F’. My card was marked.
I beat a hasty retreat. Terrific. Now I was public enemy number 1. Sure enough – the party headed my way – and as they stood outside my door, calling me every name under the sun, I knew in that moment that I would never stay at The Mirage again. Ever.
This was no 'Mirage'.
What was going on outside my door was a deeply unpleasant reality.
Now, E and I have dissected this one. It’s true to say that his corridor had no problems at all during his stay. Whereas I had had the mother of all moose nights, and now the party night from hell.
Yes -I was on the smoking floor and I know that tends to fit the psychological profile – smoking, drinking, gambling, partying, … …hey, I ‘ve done all those things too! …but this is meant to be a 4 star hotel of some class and reputation. I wouldn’t drunkenly roam the corridors in the middle of the night causing havoc. And I don’t expect anyone else to do that either.
I wasn’t entirely surprised – it was Friday night and the casino had been quite lively on the drinking front (remember the girl throwing up next to me in the ashcan?). Security had been out in force to police the lifts, and all in all The Mirage had been awash with revelry.
But back to my predicament. As the yelling and abuse continued outside my door I rang security. ‘There are random drunks prowling the corridors of the 12 th – could you come up and do something please’. And to their credit – they said they‘d send someone up right away. And they must have done, because, not long after, the cursing stopped and I heard stumbling footsteps hastily retreating.
All was quiet once again.
So it’s fair to say I didn’t start Saturday in the best humour either.
In the lift, 2 guys from Michigan made me laugh and invited me to hang out with them by the pool. So that put a smile back on my face…. (I tell you – it all goes on in the lifts in The Mirage!) .
Met E in the lobby – moaned about my night from hell. I decided it was about time I got something back from The Mirage and went to check out the comp situation. The players club gave me 2 champagne buffet vouchers – compensation of sorts I figured after the night I’d had……
Right said E - lets get at the bubbly. So we did. And then we hit the slots again – and the vodka and orange. I needed it that morning!
We had a leisurely morning’s gambling – nothing much to report – playing random slots as we went along. Not really winning a lot…but not really losing.
At some point we were going to hook up with Sandy, Adam and the Sarah’s and sort out the afternoon and evening.
Around midday a text arrived from Sandy.
Now, before I tell you what it said – I need to fill you in a bit …
Sandy loves Vegas – but he’s not a gambler.
He loves the shows, the restaurants, the Bellagio, the fountains, the whole wonderful 24/7 madness of it all.
He’s just not there for the gambling.
And this is what his text said:
“Just beaten E’s win. Spent $40. Won $3000”
Who's Slotty Big Balls now ?....
Beginner’s luck. Midas Touch. Call it what you will. Sometimes when you’re not really looking – lady luck will sneak up and tap you on the shoulder.
I read the text out to E. I could see him processing the information carefully.
I have to say he’d been enjoying his status as Big Winner – and now he was superseded. No longer Slotty Bigballs – he was now Slotty Mediumsizedballs.
I texted Sandy back. What???? Where??? How ???
‘Come over to the The Bellagio – meet you by Olive’s’ came the reply – ‘Just having my passport and details processed….
Right – let’s get over there!
Sandy was looking cool - an expression of wry amusement on his face. His Sarah – (Sarah1) was with him, jumping up and down with wide-eyed excitement. Swiftly joined by Adam, and Sarah2 who had to be dragged out of the casino against her will…
‘I bet you gamblers hate me’… said Sandy to E …
E looked bemused. His reaction understated as usual.
‘C’mon ! I wanna know the details !’ I demanded
( I love big win tales – don’t we all!)
And this is what happened.
The Bellagio 4 had arranged to rendezvous, as you do when you’re in a group.
As Sandy wanted a cigarette they all went into the casino. Adam and the Sarahs had a bit of a play while he lit up.
And in the spirt of ‘may aswell join ‘em ’ he idly put a $20 dollar note into a slot.
Not really knowing what he was doing. Just passing the time it took to smoke the cigarette.
The slot was a Hot Shot machine. Sandy hit max bet.
It promptly gave him more dollars.
(It was a healthy amount – around $80, he thinks)
Figuring the casino had made him a profit he hit max bet again.
Still not knowing what he was doing. Still not really bothered whether he won or lost.
Just doing it for the hell of it.
The way he tells it is like this.
The machine went into overdrive.
‘I think I’ve won something here’ – he said to Sarah1.
'Yea, yea, …whatever’… she replied, absorbed in her own gambling fascination..
‘No – really – I think I’ve won $3000’ ….said Sandy.
‘WHAT????????????????’ said Sarah – which, of course, alerted the others.
And indeed he had.
There it was :’Jackpot! Call attendant ‘ emblazoned across the screen.
General excitement all round!
…photobucket.com/albums/ff235/LantanaVegas/…
Gotta say – it couldn’t happen to a nicer bloke. Sandy is an extremely generous guy. He’s successful at what he does, but he has an easy come easy go attitude to money. And when it comes, he’s happy to share it.
We were all delighted for him and to bask in his deserved luck.
‘Drinks on me later!’ he promised – but first, the Bellagio 4 wanted to go ride the rides at the Stratosphere. …..( as if they hadn’t had enough excitement !)
E and I were not quite so keen on this idea- but happy to be swept along on the high of the day.
So off we set, with that feeling of anything is possible in Vegas….
You don’t get much higher than a big win.
And you don’t get much higher than The Strat.
.....but the biggest high was yet to come……!
I read the text out to E. I could see him processing the information carefully.
I have to say he’d been enjoying his status as Big Winner – and now he was superseded. No longer Slotty Bigballs – he was now Slotty Mediumsizedballs.
I texted Sandy back. What???? Where??? How ???
‘Come over to the The Bellagio – meet you by Olive’s’ came the reply – ‘Just having my passport and details processed….
Right – let’s get over there!
Sandy was looking cool - an expression of wry amusement on his face. His Sarah – (Sarah1) was with him, jumping up and down with wide-eyed excitement. Swiftly joined by Adam, and Sarah2 who had to be dragged out of the casino against her will…
‘I bet you gamblers hate me’… said Sandy to E …
E looked bemused. His reaction understated as usual.
‘C’mon ! I wanna know the details !’ I demanded
( I love big win tales – don’t we all!)
And this is what happened.
The Bellagio 4 had arranged to rendezvous, as you do when you’re in a group.
As Sandy wanted a cigarette they all went into the casino. Adam and the Sarahs had a bit of a play while he lit up.
And in the spirt of ‘may aswell join ‘em ’ he idly put a $20 dollar note into a slot.
Not really knowing what he was doing. Just passing the time it took to smoke the cigarette.
The slot was a Hot Shot machine. Sandy hit max bet.
It promptly gave him more dollars.
(It was a healthy amount – around $80, he thinks)
Figuring the casino had made him a profit he hit max bet again.
Still not knowing what he was doing. Still not really bothered whether he won or lost.
Just doing it for the hell of it.
The way he tells it is like this.
The machine went into overdrive.
‘I think I’ve won something here’ – he said to Sarah1.
'Yea, yea, …whatever’… she replied, absorbed in her own gambling fascination..
‘No – really – I think I’ve won $3000’ ….said Sandy.
‘WHAT????????????????’ said Sarah – which, of course, alerted the others.
And indeed he had.
There it was :’Jackpot! Call attendant ‘ emblazoned across the screen.
General excitement all round!
…photobucket.com/albums/ff235/LantanaVegas/…
Gotta say – it couldn’t happen to a nicer bloke. Sandy is an extremely generous guy. He’s successful at what he does, but he has an easy come easy go attitude to money. And when it comes, he’s happy to share it.
We were all delighted for him and to bask in his deserved luck.
‘Drinks on me later!’ he promised – but first, the Bellagio 4 wanted to go ride the rides at the Stratosphere. …..( as if they hadn’t had enough excitement !)
E and I were not quite so keen on this idea- but happy to be swept along on the high of the day.
So off we set, with that feeling of anything is possible in Vegas….
You don’t get much higher than a big win.
And you don’t get much higher than The Strat.
.....but the biggest high was yet to come……!
Adrenalin junkies - sign up here ....
So, high on Sandy’s Big Win, the Bellagio 4 and The Mirage 2 headed for The Stratosphere…the 4 wanted to get even higher …as high as the scary rides at the top…
So onto the monorail, then a hot sticky walk from the Sahara ….
Once again the Stratosphere seemed like an oasis in a desert wasteland ….even more of a mirage than The Mirage. (If that’s possible.)
E and I were of one mind…neither of us wanted to go up there and dangle over the edge. I mean, to my mind, there are some thrills you have to draw the line at.
Our friends are ride fanatics, so we left them to their adrenalin rush and went and hung out in the casino to wait.
E was happy. He found The Village People Party again …but the boys weren’t inviting him at The Strat. E was being careful with his dollars too – but the Village People took his money anyway …
There wasn’t a bonus in sight -so no happy disco dancing, E style, this time…
I looked on, not really playing, just watching him ‘in action’ and marvelling at the addicted slot junkie he had become …gone was the scornful blackjack player …replaced by a slot super-tart. (Of course he blames me, likening it to me introducing him to crack cocaine …mind you, I don’t know why he was complaining…he had won $1200 – more than I ever had!)
Finally, Sandy, Adam and the Sarahs re-appeared…all flushed and breathless and over excited, all beaming from ear to ear. I am not sure who did what - or whether everyone did everything- but to my ears it all sounded horrific!
Big Shot and X Scream were their thrills du jour …the descriptions on The Strat’s website tell the grisly tale :
“Big Shot shoots passengers 160 feet straight up at 45mph (over 4gs) until they are 1,081 feet above The Strip
X-Scream – A giant teeter-totter that propels you 27 feet over the edge of the Tower, 866 feet above the ground.”
To me they add up to one Big Scream…and if I had been forced to do either you would have heard it for miles…
Still, the 4 had enjoyed their thrill fix and pronounced both a mega load of fun…so who am I to argue?!
So – onto the next Big Event of the Day ...
Now I have to say here – this was going to be a bit of a giggle …something we thought might be a laugh but not a very ‘cool’ thing to do.
It had been arranged in the UK, and I nearly didn’t do it myself, but then decided …what the hell…
It was something you do for no other reason than because you’re in Vegas…..(or so we all thought)…….and the only person who couldn’t be persuaded to join in was E…..
It turned out to be… surprisingly.....awesome!...
So onto the monorail, then a hot sticky walk from the Sahara ….
Once again the Stratosphere seemed like an oasis in a desert wasteland ….even more of a mirage than The Mirage. (If that’s possible.)
E and I were of one mind…neither of us wanted to go up there and dangle over the edge. I mean, to my mind, there are some thrills you have to draw the line at.
Our friends are ride fanatics, so we left them to their adrenalin rush and went and hung out in the casino to wait.
E was happy. He found The Village People Party again …but the boys weren’t inviting him at The Strat. E was being careful with his dollars too – but the Village People took his money anyway …
There wasn’t a bonus in sight -so no happy disco dancing, E style, this time…
I looked on, not really playing, just watching him ‘in action’ and marvelling at the addicted slot junkie he had become …gone was the scornful blackjack player …replaced by a slot super-tart. (Of course he blames me, likening it to me introducing him to crack cocaine …mind you, I don’t know why he was complaining…he had won $1200 – more than I ever had!)
Finally, Sandy, Adam and the Sarahs re-appeared…all flushed and breathless and over excited, all beaming from ear to ear. I am not sure who did what - or whether everyone did everything- but to my ears it all sounded horrific!
Big Shot and X Scream were their thrills du jour …the descriptions on The Strat’s website tell the grisly tale :
“Big Shot shoots passengers 160 feet straight up at 45mph (over 4gs) until they are 1,081 feet above The Strip
X-Scream – A giant teeter-totter that propels you 27 feet over the edge of the Tower, 866 feet above the ground.”
To me they add up to one Big Scream…and if I had been forced to do either you would have heard it for miles…
Still, the 4 had enjoyed their thrill fix and pronounced both a mega load of fun…so who am I to argue?!
So – onto the next Big Event of the Day ...
Now I have to say here – this was going to be a bit of a giggle …something we thought might be a laugh but not a very ‘cool’ thing to do.
It had been arranged in the UK, and I nearly didn’t do it myself, but then decided …what the hell…
It was something you do for no other reason than because you’re in Vegas…..(or so we all thought)…….and the only person who couldn’t be persuaded to join in was E…..
It turned out to be… surprisingly.....awesome!...
Miracles and Magic ...
If you had said to me when I was in my 20s that one day I‘d do what we did next I would have laughed my head off.….
Back then I was out partying every night, wearing mother-shocking clothes while London was rocked to its core by punk. The Sex Pistols had exploded onto the scene – and even the 60s rockers I grew up with were shaken.
But we all get older…Roger Daltry did fishing ads for American Express, Mick Jagger became Sir Michael and I even caught Phil Daniels – once the enfant terrible of Brit rebellious movies - waltzing the other night on Strictly Come Dancing. It’s only a matter of time before it’s Sir John Lydon.
Back then, while I was dying my hair punk pink… hovering at the edge of my consciousness a young geeky singer climbed up the charts with what I considered to be a dirge of a ballad.
He didn’t figure on MY radar. This was for mums and middle aged spinsters. Or so I thought - with all the arrogance of my youth.
As I got older – he didn’t go away. I grudgingly conceded that some of his tunes were catchy and even caught myself singing along on the odd occasion. But I would never admit it.
He just wasn’t my kind of guy.
As time went by my tastes matured. I embraced Frank and Elvis, a bit of jazz ... a touch of classical. The Beatles were still my first love – after all, they had been my rite of passage - and punk had shaken up my rebellious streak. Disco had got me dancing …and later, Brit Pop had caught my imagination. Age had brought a taste for all kinds of music …but never for this guy.
So when Sandy said ‘We’ve got tickets! You should come’ my first reaction was one of incredulousness..
‘Are you joking ?’ I said…..’Oh C’mon!’ he said
‘It will be a laugh! ..and if nothing else, I want to see how the twenty somethings’ react !’
‘They’ll be shocked!’ I said – knowing Adam and Sarah2.. ....’is that wise??’
‘Think about it’ said Sandy.
Well, I must admit …I gave it some thought. For about 2 minutes. ..
I still said no.
And then ……I thought about it some more….
I remembered E’s and my philosophy of going to see people before they die (or we do) and a little voice in the back of my head said …’well, why not?’
E wouldn’t have it.
‘I don’t think it’s quite my cup of tea’ he said. Despite a penchant for Boney M and Petula Clark – which qualified him in my eyes – he still couldn’t be persuaded. ‘I’ll stick with Cher’ he said…
’Well I’m going to do it’ I said, almost defiantly.
And that, my friends, is how I found myself doing something that I thought I would never do in my entire life.
I was going to see Barry Manilow.
Even when we got to the Vegas Hilton, I was still in shock
But, boy …were all my pre-conceptions about to be blown away..………
Back then I was out partying every night, wearing mother-shocking clothes while London was rocked to its core by punk. The Sex Pistols had exploded onto the scene – and even the 60s rockers I grew up with were shaken.
But we all get older…Roger Daltry did fishing ads for American Express, Mick Jagger became Sir Michael and I even caught Phil Daniels – once the enfant terrible of Brit rebellious movies - waltzing the other night on Strictly Come Dancing. It’s only a matter of time before it’s Sir John Lydon.
Back then, while I was dying my hair punk pink… hovering at the edge of my consciousness a young geeky singer climbed up the charts with what I considered to be a dirge of a ballad.
He didn’t figure on MY radar. This was for mums and middle aged spinsters. Or so I thought - with all the arrogance of my youth.
As I got older – he didn’t go away. I grudgingly conceded that some of his tunes were catchy and even caught myself singing along on the odd occasion. But I would never admit it.
He just wasn’t my kind of guy.
As time went by my tastes matured. I embraced Frank and Elvis, a bit of jazz ... a touch of classical. The Beatles were still my first love – after all, they had been my rite of passage - and punk had shaken up my rebellious streak. Disco had got me dancing …and later, Brit Pop had caught my imagination. Age had brought a taste for all kinds of music …but never for this guy.
So when Sandy said ‘We’ve got tickets! You should come’ my first reaction was one of incredulousness..
‘Are you joking ?’ I said…..’Oh C’mon!’ he said
‘It will be a laugh! ..and if nothing else, I want to see how the twenty somethings’ react !’
‘They’ll be shocked!’ I said – knowing Adam and Sarah2.. ....’is that wise??’
‘Think about it’ said Sandy.
Well, I must admit …I gave it some thought. For about 2 minutes. ..
I still said no.
And then ……I thought about it some more….
I remembered E’s and my philosophy of going to see people before they die (or we do) and a little voice in the back of my head said …’well, why not?’
E wouldn’t have it.
‘I don’t think it’s quite my cup of tea’ he said. Despite a penchant for Boney M and Petula Clark – which qualified him in my eyes – he still couldn’t be persuaded. ‘I’ll stick with Cher’ he said…
’Well I’m going to do it’ I said, almost defiantly.
And that, my friends, is how I found myself doing something that I thought I would never do in my entire life.
I was going to see Barry Manilow.
Even when we got to the Vegas Hilton, I was still in shock
But, boy …were all my pre-conceptions about to be blown away..………
Oh Barrrrry....
So the 6 of us caught the monorail to the Hilton. E still couldn’t be persuaded to sample the ‘Barry Experience’ but came along for the ride and a bite to eat. ..
We weaved our way through the Star Trek exhibits and the casino and collected our tickets.
After Sandy’s big win and the Bellagio 4’s Stratosphere excitement – seeing Barry just felt like a way to round off the day …no more, no less than that.
Wolfed down some food in the Paradise café – made quick arrangements to meet E later in front of the Bellagio fountains, and then found the Tempo lounge bar for some stiff cocktails.
We reckoned we might be needing them. Sandy, flush from his win, did the honours and we knocked them back like five people about to see the dentist.
Joined the tail end of the queue - all grabbing a free glowstick on the way in, and then, to enter into the spirt of things a little more, we all bought feather boas. (The boys looked very fetching in theirs, I must say…)
The Bellagio 4 were all upstairs but I was downstairs, near the back. No matter – we were all seeing the same show.
Draped my boa around my neck and found my seat. The people all around me were in excited Barry mood so I didn’t dare let on I was doing this for a laugh…and anyway, my feathers were giving me some kind of credibility. I was trying to feel abit 'Copacabana' (but I was also feeling a bit like a fraud)
Made friendly conversation with a couple next to me and soon realised this was a Very Big Deal for my fellow audience members …
Finally, the lights dimmed….and I settled back in my seat.
On the big screen – not kittens and hearts and flowers, or whatever I was expecting….but a psychedelic frenzy of madness . Swirling, pulsating, strange, hallucinogenic ...
Frankie Goes to Hollywood’s “Two Tribes” began to blast out …
I sat forward. My eyes widened. My heart rate started to shoot up…
What ever trip Barry was on – he was obviously hellbent on taking us with him..
As the music and the madness built to a crescendo –snatches of Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz mixed in to the frenzy….
then a piercing unearthly screammmmm…
"It’s Vegas babyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy"…….
I was gobsmacked….
What WAS this???
More importantly…WHO was this man?
Now, I couldn’t wait to find out.
Up went the screen…there bathed in ‘heavenly light’, a golden silhouette …
It seemed like a vision. …
The audience went wild and leapt to its feet. I’m definitely hallucinating I thought to myself.
Barry. The man himself. Looking great.
Slim, lithe, bounding with energy, beaming from ear to ear. If he looked happy to see us – his audience were ecstatic to see him
Almost immediately, Barry had us in the palm of his hand…
Likeable, self deprecating, funny, having the time of his life.
You couldn’t fail to be swept along with him.
It was like an evangelical rally – and the Evangelist had our hearts and souls firmly in his grip.…
And he didn’t let go. Not for one minute.
Billed as the Ultimate Concert –with a huge backing orchestra and 4 fabulous singers- the hits just kept on coming.
I swear I thought I’d never see the day when Barry did the techno version of ‘It’s a Miracle’ – but he did.
And it was exhilarating.
‘I’m still a sex god’ he whooped at the end of it - and you know what –I had to concede – he really was!
The show is a fantastic joyride from beginning to end. He doesn’t let up for a moment.
Hard to pick out the high spots in what felt like a permanent high. I’ll try:
A fantastic medley from the 40s/50s/60s with his singers; a brilliant high energy piano set where 4 members of the band and B took it in turns to seize the piano and pound the ivories one after the other without missing a note; a touching tribute to his father which brought a tear to the eye, (‘get a grip, L ‘ I said to myself ) .
At one point he broke into ‘I see you baby…shakin’ you’re a** ‘
Whaaaaat??????
And even 'Mandy' – which I was dreading…was delivered with the minimum of sentiment.
First we saw that geeky guy from way back when, playing on the big screen.……
Half way through, the picture dissolved through to the man himself finishing the song – just him and the piano in a lone spotlight. Simple. Effective.
Reminding us all he’s never been away.
And ofcourse, Copacabana …Barry suspended over the audience on a flying platform as the whole theatre just went ape s**t Copa-crazy.
Somewhere in the middle of all this I had the strangest feeling …my stomach was churning, my palms were sweaty – oh my god …it felt like love! What’s happening to me??
I must be losing my mind!
I was Manilow- mesmerised and I swear I had to keep pinching myself.
There I was, up on my feet, waving my glowstick and my feathers with the best of ‘em.
Nothing mattered. Not the nose, not the plastic surgery, not the sheer over the top kitschness of it all.
I was lost in the madness.
Whatever it is he’s got – they should bottle it.
He’s a brilliant showman and Vegas is all the richer for having him there.
No. That’s an understatement.
Barry is Vegas.
Well - that’s how it felt that night.
When it was over I wondered whether it was just me feeling deranged with excitement.
What would the others think?
I staggered out in a daze. Sarah1 came and found me. I took one look at her and knew she felt the same. Her big bambi eyes were wider than ever and she was as over excited as I was…
But what about the normally cool Sandy, and our 2 twentysomethings?
Sarah led the way back to the Tempo bar where the others were so high they couldn’t sit down. We were all drunk with euphoria and literally jumping around. Adam pronounced it the best show he’d ever seen. (This was particularly extraordinary as he is well up on all the bands of the moment) .
As for Sandy. …’you know what’, he said ‘Winning $3000 was great – but this was better…’
Blimey.
But! No time to lose! we had to meet E.
He didn’t know what was about to hit him.
Onto the monorail – where we were still too excited to sit down. Sandy immediately dubbed it the Mani-rail as our Barrymania took over the carriage. We fed on each others’ frenzy all the way to the Fountains – singing and laughing and waving our feather boas and glowsticks about. And then berated E for not coming.
I don’t think he was expecting this wave of hysteria – but to be fair – none of us could have predicted it. And we weren’t even drunk.
We gazed at the Fountains. ‘I think Barry walks on water’ I said
‘Yes’, said Sandy …’that’s how it should be in Vegas…Barry rising up in the middle of the Fountains …singing …’ (I’m laughing now just thinking about it …!)
You can’t sustain that level of hysteria - and eventually we all calmed down …(’we’ve hit a Mani–low’ said Sandy ). …
We decided to watch the next Fountain show from Sandy and Sarah’s room and headed into The Bellagio.
Up in their room, while we were gazing at the view, Sandy suddenly produced a fistful of dollars.
‘It’s been an amazing day,’ he said ‘and I want you all to share in the luck’ -and with that he thrust a $100 note into each of our hands.
What can I say.
That’s Sandy. He is what we call in Britain ‘A top bloke’
Excited again, we headed down to the casino. A bride and her bridesmaids passed us enroute – the bride shaking her feather boa at us with a joyous ‘woooo wooooo!'
We shook ours back with a chorus of 'woooooos'.
Only in Vegas can a perfect stranger shake their feathers at you and go ‘wooooooo’ …..and it seems perfectly normal...
Sandy’s instructions were to see if we could add to his 'investment' in us.
Not for him..Just for the fun of it.
So we played roulette in teams and then hit the slots.
Sarah1 was the only one of us who did make a profit – but it didn’t matter. It was great night.
By about 01.30 I remembered E and I had to pack. It didn’t seem possible – but we were heading home the next day. So we agreed to meet the Bellagio 4 for breakfast, said our goodnights and headed back to The Mirage.
Barry had stolen my heart and I was feeling like I had had the strangest of nights.
Flung a few things in my case and flopped into bed.
I was exhausted. ….
As I drifted off to sleep, fragmented moments swirled around in my head....and I swear I could see Barry ....rising up and walking towards me... singing through The Fountains ….
We weaved our way through the Star Trek exhibits and the casino and collected our tickets.
After Sandy’s big win and the Bellagio 4’s Stratosphere excitement – seeing Barry just felt like a way to round off the day …no more, no less than that.
Wolfed down some food in the Paradise café – made quick arrangements to meet E later in front of the Bellagio fountains, and then found the Tempo lounge bar for some stiff cocktails.
We reckoned we might be needing them. Sandy, flush from his win, did the honours and we knocked them back like five people about to see the dentist.
Joined the tail end of the queue - all grabbing a free glowstick on the way in, and then, to enter into the spirt of things a little more, we all bought feather boas. (The boys looked very fetching in theirs, I must say…)
The Bellagio 4 were all upstairs but I was downstairs, near the back. No matter – we were all seeing the same show.
Draped my boa around my neck and found my seat. The people all around me were in excited Barry mood so I didn’t dare let on I was doing this for a laugh…and anyway, my feathers were giving me some kind of credibility. I was trying to feel abit 'Copacabana' (but I was also feeling a bit like a fraud)
Made friendly conversation with a couple next to me and soon realised this was a Very Big Deal for my fellow audience members …
Finally, the lights dimmed….and I settled back in my seat.
On the big screen – not kittens and hearts and flowers, or whatever I was expecting….but a psychedelic frenzy of madness . Swirling, pulsating, strange, hallucinogenic ...
Frankie Goes to Hollywood’s “Two Tribes” began to blast out …
I sat forward. My eyes widened. My heart rate started to shoot up…
What ever trip Barry was on – he was obviously hellbent on taking us with him..
As the music and the madness built to a crescendo –snatches of Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz mixed in to the frenzy….
then a piercing unearthly screammmmm…
"It’s Vegas babyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy"…….
I was gobsmacked….
What WAS this???
More importantly…WHO was this man?
Now, I couldn’t wait to find out.
Up went the screen…there bathed in ‘heavenly light’, a golden silhouette …
It seemed like a vision. …
The audience went wild and leapt to its feet. I’m definitely hallucinating I thought to myself.
Barry. The man himself. Looking great.
Slim, lithe, bounding with energy, beaming from ear to ear. If he looked happy to see us – his audience were ecstatic to see him
Almost immediately, Barry had us in the palm of his hand…
Likeable, self deprecating, funny, having the time of his life.
You couldn’t fail to be swept along with him.
It was like an evangelical rally – and the Evangelist had our hearts and souls firmly in his grip.…
And he didn’t let go. Not for one minute.
Billed as the Ultimate Concert –with a huge backing orchestra and 4 fabulous singers- the hits just kept on coming.
I swear I thought I’d never see the day when Barry did the techno version of ‘It’s a Miracle’ – but he did.
And it was exhilarating.
‘I’m still a sex god’ he whooped at the end of it - and you know what –I had to concede – he really was!
The show is a fantastic joyride from beginning to end. He doesn’t let up for a moment.
Hard to pick out the high spots in what felt like a permanent high. I’ll try:
A fantastic medley from the 40s/50s/60s with his singers; a brilliant high energy piano set where 4 members of the band and B took it in turns to seize the piano and pound the ivories one after the other without missing a note; a touching tribute to his father which brought a tear to the eye, (‘get a grip, L ‘ I said to myself ) .
At one point he broke into ‘I see you baby…shakin’ you’re a** ‘
Whaaaaat??????
And even 'Mandy' – which I was dreading…was delivered with the minimum of sentiment.
First we saw that geeky guy from way back when, playing on the big screen.……
Half way through, the picture dissolved through to the man himself finishing the song – just him and the piano in a lone spotlight. Simple. Effective.
Reminding us all he’s never been away.
And ofcourse, Copacabana …Barry suspended over the audience on a flying platform as the whole theatre just went ape s**t Copa-crazy.
Somewhere in the middle of all this I had the strangest feeling …my stomach was churning, my palms were sweaty – oh my god …it felt like love! What’s happening to me??
I must be losing my mind!
I was Manilow- mesmerised and I swear I had to keep pinching myself.
There I was, up on my feet, waving my glowstick and my feathers with the best of ‘em.
Nothing mattered. Not the nose, not the plastic surgery, not the sheer over the top kitschness of it all.
I was lost in the madness.
Whatever it is he’s got – they should bottle it.
He’s a brilliant showman and Vegas is all the richer for having him there.
No. That’s an understatement.
Barry is Vegas.
Well - that’s how it felt that night.
When it was over I wondered whether it was just me feeling deranged with excitement.
What would the others think?
I staggered out in a daze. Sarah1 came and found me. I took one look at her and knew she felt the same. Her big bambi eyes were wider than ever and she was as over excited as I was…
But what about the normally cool Sandy, and our 2 twentysomethings?
Sarah led the way back to the Tempo bar where the others were so high they couldn’t sit down. We were all drunk with euphoria and literally jumping around. Adam pronounced it the best show he’d ever seen. (This was particularly extraordinary as he is well up on all the bands of the moment) .
As for Sandy. …’you know what’, he said ‘Winning $3000 was great – but this was better…’
Blimey.
But! No time to lose! we had to meet E.
He didn’t know what was about to hit him.
Onto the monorail – where we were still too excited to sit down. Sandy immediately dubbed it the Mani-rail as our Barrymania took over the carriage. We fed on each others’ frenzy all the way to the Fountains – singing and laughing and waving our feather boas and glowsticks about. And then berated E for not coming.
I don’t think he was expecting this wave of hysteria – but to be fair – none of us could have predicted it. And we weren’t even drunk.
We gazed at the Fountains. ‘I think Barry walks on water’ I said
‘Yes’, said Sandy …’that’s how it should be in Vegas…Barry rising up in the middle of the Fountains …singing …’ (I’m laughing now just thinking about it …!)
You can’t sustain that level of hysteria - and eventually we all calmed down …(’we’ve hit a Mani–low’ said Sandy ). …
We decided to watch the next Fountain show from Sandy and Sarah’s room and headed into The Bellagio.
Up in their room, while we were gazing at the view, Sandy suddenly produced a fistful of dollars.
‘It’s been an amazing day,’ he said ‘and I want you all to share in the luck’ -and with that he thrust a $100 note into each of our hands.
What can I say.
That’s Sandy. He is what we call in Britain ‘A top bloke’
Excited again, we headed down to the casino. A bride and her bridesmaids passed us enroute – the bride shaking her feather boa at us with a joyous ‘woooo wooooo!'
We shook ours back with a chorus of 'woooooos'.
Only in Vegas can a perfect stranger shake their feathers at you and go ‘wooooooo’ …..and it seems perfectly normal...
Sandy’s instructions were to see if we could add to his 'investment' in us.
Not for him..Just for the fun of it.
So we played roulette in teams and then hit the slots.
Sarah1 was the only one of us who did make a profit – but it didn’t matter. It was great night.
By about 01.30 I remembered E and I had to pack. It didn’t seem possible – but we were heading home the next day. So we agreed to meet the Bellagio 4 for breakfast, said our goodnights and headed back to The Mirage.
Barry had stolen my heart and I was feeling like I had had the strangest of nights.
Flung a few things in my case and flopped into bed.
I was exhausted. ….
As I drifted off to sleep, fragmented moments swirled around in my head....and I swear I could see Barry ....rising up and walking towards me... singing through The Fountains ….
Goodbye Mirage ...Hello Reality...
It was time to leave the Neon City … sadly, departure day had come round all too soon.
One final milk jug raid, a quick call to E to synchronise meeting, and then I hurled my things into my case. We still had one final treat to look forward to – Sunday morning Champagne Brunch at The Wynn with the Bellagio 4.
But first I had to check out. …
‘What argument do you think I am going to have?’ I said to E as we headed round to the Mirage check out desk. ‘Charging me for putting milk in the fridge? ’ (I had been very nervous about using it due to the ultra sensitive sensors …)
‘Or forgetting the $75 credit they promised me after messing me about at check in?’
'Whatever it is – it’ll be something you won’t be expecting’ said E – and he was right.
Now this is where I need to canvas a bit of opinion. It could be that I am at fault here.
You will remember my homeless state at the start when I didn’t have a room to call my own for 24 hours? Well, I had made full use of the offered $75 ‘inconvenience’ money in food and drink, and reckoned I had come in just under budget.
‘Just 21 dollars to pay’ said the girl behind the desk.
I looked quizzically at the bill….
‘For tips’ she added….
’Oh? What tips? ‘ I asked politely
‘You haven’t left any tips in the restaurants’ she said with a faint look of distaste on her face as if I was the meanest guest in the hotel.
‘But I have!’ I protested.
‘No you haven’t’ she said, tapping slightly impatiently on my signed receipts with a manicured nail.
Indeed - the boxes where I could have added my tips were empty. …Deliberately so.
This had been ringed with an accusing biro.
So I explained.
E and I had resolved to always leave our tips in cash when we ate at The Mirage in the hope that the person who was looking after us would actually get the money.
Or at least share it in the right pockets.
And we'd tipped well too.
But as far as my check out girl was concerned I was the skinflint who had grabbed their $75 and had had the audacity not to tip…
I could tell by her look that she didn’t believe me.
‘Well you’ll have to pay it – it’s on your account’ - she said defiantly.
‘So let me get this right‘ I said in my 'lets-spell-this-out-so-we-all-understand-it' voice
‘You want me to pay double for tips. Even though I have already left tips in your restaurants ’….
She looked at me. I looked at her.
I, for one, was not going to budge.
Suddenly, she grabbed my receipts and bill and disappeared.
‘Remember – said E ‘it’s a Mirage ‘…’you think you’ve paid your tips …but they just can’t see them….’
The girl re-appeared after a summit meeting in a back room.
‘Alright‘ she said, ‘You’ll have to fill this in and sign it‘ thrusting a densely typed document at me.
The document was a disclaimer – asking for my name, address, rank and number (or so it seemed.)
I had to sign that I was refusing to pay the tips.
This really was, dear friends, the last straw.
So I scrawled on it in big angry letters: ‘Tips already left! In cash!!’
She snatched it back off me and moved on to someone else.
I was dismissed.
Goodbye Mirage – and thanks.
I grabbed my ‘cancelled’ bill. I wouldn’t have been surprised to see ‘undesirable’ stamped on it.
‘C’mon’ I said to E –‘let’s get outta here’
I’d had enough of The Mirage. To last a lifetime.
Now I am prepared to concede that once again I must‘ve bucked the system. If we got the whole tips scenario horribly wrong – please let me know. But it’s quite normal to split the tip from the rest of the bill in the UK and leave it in cash. So I didn’t realise I was doing anything wrong.
But I could have done without being made to feel the biggest Scrooge in town. Or that I was scamming The Mirage.
It was just one more incident in a week of incidents that had started at Check in.
Perhaps the Vegas Gods were testing me…Perhaps the whole experience really had been a Mirage ….anyway, we dumped our cases at the bell desk and beat a hasty retreat to an altogether more pleasant reality.
The Wynn
Sandy, Adam and the Sarahs were already in the queue for the buffet and soon we had a nice big table. The champagne appeared almost immediately and I knocked it back. I needed it after The Mirage.
Our eyes were bigger than our stomachs at the sight of the buffet counters and the amazing variety of choice. With the thought of airline food to come, I made a complete pig of myself. We all did.
I had a bit of every breakfasty thing going and then decided to add a touch of lunch aswell, tucking into the most succulent, tasty, yummy slice of roast beef I swear I have ever tasted.
Then ...I started on dessert.
I am not normally a big eater! Honestly! But everything I put in my mouth tasted so wonderful that I just carried on and until I was stuffed. It was a great Vegas last meal.
The Wynn Champagne Brunch is a little more pricey than others – ( around $34 if memory serves) – but we all thought it was terrific. Plenty of choice, and all of it delicious.
Over brunch we re-lived Sandy’s Big Win, and browbeat E again for missing out on The Barry Experience. Barry hadn’t just been a one night stand…this was undying love and we were his newest devotees.
‘Perhaps we should start a cult‘ said Adam…
'We could call it Barryology….’
Once we’d all had our fill, we strolled around the Wynn and soaked up the atmosphere.
I silently offered up a prayer to St Steve of Vegas:
'Please let my bank balance stretch to this one day!'
Too soon it was time for E and I to go.
The Bellagio 4 accompanied us back to The Mirage and we said our goodbyes. We knew we’d all see each other in London –but meeting in Vegas had been special and we were bound together by the whole Big Win, Big Elvis, Big Barry, Big Fun of it all.
The airport shuttle in front of The Mirage was about to leave so E and I hopped on.
McCarran
Domestic Terminal.
Ah.
(OK. Some you lose...)
Carted our stuff on the long trek round to the International Terminal in the blazing heat, where once again we had the ‘Are we going to upgrade to an exit seat for more legroom' ‘discussion’.
(Readers of my last TR will recall we had a bit of a ‘domestic’ about this last year!)
As you know, E’s now a Vegas winner. Having won enough to pay for a big chunk of his holiday.
So ……….
Ofcourse he wasn’t going to upgrade! Old habits die hard. And that money was staying firmly in his wallet.
I had pre-booked us 2 seats in a row of 3 and the check in guy reckoned I might be lucky and we’d end up with an empty seat. It was my last Vegas gamble. Upgrade myself and move?
Or gamble on the space of the 3rd seat.
Well, I’m happy to say we got lucky. It seemed like my last piece of Vegas luck.
As the plane climbed into the clouds I looked back…..
.....Vegas in miniature …nestling in the desert like a precious jewel ...slipping away behind us …
…...the burnt shades of the desert glowing in the late afternoon sun……
Fragments of moments rewound themselves in my head ….and somewhere in the darkest corner of my brain ….a distant echo of a scream……….
‘It’s Vegas babyyyyyyyyyyyy………..’
And once again
I knew
We’d be back………..
One final milk jug raid, a quick call to E to synchronise meeting, and then I hurled my things into my case. We still had one final treat to look forward to – Sunday morning Champagne Brunch at The Wynn with the Bellagio 4.
But first I had to check out. …
‘What argument do you think I am going to have?’ I said to E as we headed round to the Mirage check out desk. ‘Charging me for putting milk in the fridge? ’ (I had been very nervous about using it due to the ultra sensitive sensors …)
‘Or forgetting the $75 credit they promised me after messing me about at check in?’
'Whatever it is – it’ll be something you won’t be expecting’ said E – and he was right.
Now this is where I need to canvas a bit of opinion. It could be that I am at fault here.
You will remember my homeless state at the start when I didn’t have a room to call my own for 24 hours? Well, I had made full use of the offered $75 ‘inconvenience’ money in food and drink, and reckoned I had come in just under budget.
‘Just 21 dollars to pay’ said the girl behind the desk.
I looked quizzically at the bill….
‘For tips’ she added….
’Oh? What tips? ‘ I asked politely
‘You haven’t left any tips in the restaurants’ she said with a faint look of distaste on her face as if I was the meanest guest in the hotel.
‘But I have!’ I protested.
‘No you haven’t’ she said, tapping slightly impatiently on my signed receipts with a manicured nail.
Indeed - the boxes where I could have added my tips were empty. …Deliberately so.
This had been ringed with an accusing biro.
So I explained.
E and I had resolved to always leave our tips in cash when we ate at The Mirage in the hope that the person who was looking after us would actually get the money.
Or at least share it in the right pockets.
And we'd tipped well too.
But as far as my check out girl was concerned I was the skinflint who had grabbed their $75 and had had the audacity not to tip…
I could tell by her look that she didn’t believe me.
‘Well you’ll have to pay it – it’s on your account’ - she said defiantly.
‘So let me get this right‘ I said in my 'lets-spell-this-out-so-we-all-understand-it' voice
‘You want me to pay double for tips. Even though I have already left tips in your restaurants ’….
She looked at me. I looked at her.
I, for one, was not going to budge.
Suddenly, she grabbed my receipts and bill and disappeared.
‘Remember – said E ‘it’s a Mirage ‘…’you think you’ve paid your tips …but they just can’t see them….’
The girl re-appeared after a summit meeting in a back room.
‘Alright‘ she said, ‘You’ll have to fill this in and sign it‘ thrusting a densely typed document at me.
The document was a disclaimer – asking for my name, address, rank and number (or so it seemed.)
I had to sign that I was refusing to pay the tips.
This really was, dear friends, the last straw.
So I scrawled on it in big angry letters: ‘Tips already left! In cash!!’
She snatched it back off me and moved on to someone else.
I was dismissed.
Goodbye Mirage – and thanks.
I grabbed my ‘cancelled’ bill. I wouldn’t have been surprised to see ‘undesirable’ stamped on it.
‘C’mon’ I said to E –‘let’s get outta here’
I’d had enough of The Mirage. To last a lifetime.
Now I am prepared to concede that once again I must‘ve bucked the system. If we got the whole tips scenario horribly wrong – please let me know. But it’s quite normal to split the tip from the rest of the bill in the UK and leave it in cash. So I didn’t realise I was doing anything wrong.
But I could have done without being made to feel the biggest Scrooge in town. Or that I was scamming The Mirage.
It was just one more incident in a week of incidents that had started at Check in.
Perhaps the Vegas Gods were testing me…Perhaps the whole experience really had been a Mirage ….anyway, we dumped our cases at the bell desk and beat a hasty retreat to an altogether more pleasant reality.
The Wynn
Sandy, Adam and the Sarahs were already in the queue for the buffet and soon we had a nice big table. The champagne appeared almost immediately and I knocked it back. I needed it after The Mirage.
Our eyes were bigger than our stomachs at the sight of the buffet counters and the amazing variety of choice. With the thought of airline food to come, I made a complete pig of myself. We all did.
I had a bit of every breakfasty thing going and then decided to add a touch of lunch aswell, tucking into the most succulent, tasty, yummy slice of roast beef I swear I have ever tasted.
Then ...I started on dessert.
I am not normally a big eater! Honestly! But everything I put in my mouth tasted so wonderful that I just carried on and until I was stuffed. It was a great Vegas last meal.
The Wynn Champagne Brunch is a little more pricey than others – ( around $34 if memory serves) – but we all thought it was terrific. Plenty of choice, and all of it delicious.
Over brunch we re-lived Sandy’s Big Win, and browbeat E again for missing out on The Barry Experience. Barry hadn’t just been a one night stand…this was undying love and we were his newest devotees.
‘Perhaps we should start a cult‘ said Adam…
'We could call it Barryology….’
Once we’d all had our fill, we strolled around the Wynn and soaked up the atmosphere.
I silently offered up a prayer to St Steve of Vegas:
'Please let my bank balance stretch to this one day!'
Too soon it was time for E and I to go.
The Bellagio 4 accompanied us back to The Mirage and we said our goodbyes. We knew we’d all see each other in London –but meeting in Vegas had been special and we were bound together by the whole Big Win, Big Elvis, Big Barry, Big Fun of it all.
The airport shuttle in front of The Mirage was about to leave so E and I hopped on.
McCarran
Domestic Terminal.
Ah.
(OK. Some you lose...)
Carted our stuff on the long trek round to the International Terminal in the blazing heat, where once again we had the ‘Are we going to upgrade to an exit seat for more legroom' ‘discussion’.
(Readers of my last TR will recall we had a bit of a ‘domestic’ about this last year!)
As you know, E’s now a Vegas winner. Having won enough to pay for a big chunk of his holiday.
So ……….
Ofcourse he wasn’t going to upgrade! Old habits die hard. And that money was staying firmly in his wallet.
I had pre-booked us 2 seats in a row of 3 and the check in guy reckoned I might be lucky and we’d end up with an empty seat. It was my last Vegas gamble. Upgrade myself and move?
Or gamble on the space of the 3rd seat.
Well, I’m happy to say we got lucky. It seemed like my last piece of Vegas luck.
As the plane climbed into the clouds I looked back…..
.....Vegas in miniature …nestling in the desert like a precious jewel ...slipping away behind us …
…...the burnt shades of the desert glowing in the late afternoon sun……
Fragments of moments rewound themselves in my head ….and somewhere in the darkest corner of my brain ….a distant echo of a scream……….
‘It’s Vegas babyyyyyyyyyyyy………..’
And once again
I knew
We’d be back………..
The Meadows...a last look back...
Since we came back I have thought a lot about Vegas – and what it is that has us all in its grip.
I know it’s not just the gambling…...as you have read, my friend Sandy isn’t really a gambler yet he loves it too, and for me it’s the most wonderful irony that he turned out to be the biggest winner in our group.
Lady Luck sure has a great sense of humour!
I had lunch with a friend who has been to Vegas 15 times and who also doesn’t really gamble. The first time he went on a whim (like me!) and got bitten by the bug.
He just knows it’s like no other place on earth - but try explaining it to people who’ve never been!........ Or to those who think they would never go.
Vegas is a city with many faces…for some it offers dreams, for others, an escape, for many, a chance to let their hair down.
Succumb to its siren call and there’s a very good chance it will lure you back.
As I said last year, you can be whoever you want to be in Vegas.
E says he becomes more extrovert.
I think I become much more ‘me’ – which means I feel comfortable there.
And its Pleasure Palaces are open to all – no matter who you are or where you’ve come from, or how much is in your wallet. It strikes me as the ultimate democracy. You don’t have to spend much to have a ringside seat at one of the greatest shows on earth.
Perhaps, the answer is Vegas is a state of mind.
But don’t think too hard – just dive in, go with the flow and enjoy it … and if it steals your heart – never apologise, never explain.
If you are about to go, have a wonderful time.
Come back happy – come back rich if Lady Luck is smiling your way, - but make sure you come back and share it with us...
'Lantana_UK'
Trip Advisor - Las Vegas Forum
( Sept 2008)
I know it’s not just the gambling…...as you have read, my friend Sandy isn’t really a gambler yet he loves it too, and for me it’s the most wonderful irony that he turned out to be the biggest winner in our group.
Lady Luck sure has a great sense of humour!
I had lunch with a friend who has been to Vegas 15 times and who also doesn’t really gamble. The first time he went on a whim (like me!) and got bitten by the bug.
He just knows it’s like no other place on earth - but try explaining it to people who’ve never been!........ Or to those who think they would never go.
Vegas is a city with many faces…for some it offers dreams, for others, an escape, for many, a chance to let their hair down.
Succumb to its siren call and there’s a very good chance it will lure you back.
As I said last year, you can be whoever you want to be in Vegas.
E says he becomes more extrovert.
I think I become much more ‘me’ – which means I feel comfortable there.
And its Pleasure Palaces are open to all – no matter who you are or where you’ve come from, or how much is in your wallet. It strikes me as the ultimate democracy. You don’t have to spend much to have a ringside seat at one of the greatest shows on earth.
Perhaps, the answer is Vegas is a state of mind.
But don’t think too hard – just dive in, go with the flow and enjoy it … and if it steals your heart – never apologise, never explain.
If you are about to go, have a wonderful time.
Come back happy – come back rich if Lady Luck is smiling your way, - but make sure you come back and share it with us...
'Lantana_UK'
Trip Advisor - Las Vegas Forum
( Sept 2008)
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