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’ !
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