After my conference ended, we checked out, and Phil realized before I did that our boarding passes the concierge printed for us were for a morning flight. I panicked for a second thinking that somehow I had confused our flight time to be later than it actually was. I tried calling the office and kept getting VM for everyone, so I checked my e-mail and saw that the firm closed down because of Mother Nature's rage. Then we realized that our flight was re-booked for tomorrow, and I called the travel agent for assistance with booking a room.
Every single hotel room in Vegas was booked, which I think excited Phil because his dream of gambling through the entire night could actually become a reality. I asked the agent to check and see if there was any way the Wynn would give us another night since we had been guests, and she was able to work it out for a rate slightly higher than the conference rate. Whew!
Then I noticed our seat assignments. Phil, who flies once every year or so, was listed as elite and seated in first class, and I, the almost monthly flier, was in 28D, the row before the shitter. WTF?! I was able to move up to an aisle seat in an exit row, which is fine, and Phil has his fingers crossed that we make it out of here on the morning flight so he can enjoy his first-class status.
We called the 'rents and Aunt Pat (our pet sitter) to give our travel update right after we "consoled" ourselves with the Wynn's delish lunch buffet. I enjoyed quite the diverse cuisine pairings, and as Phil teased me, I started making a list, mainly for the shock value (consult Phil or Chuck for other examples):
American: cup of chicken noodle soup, mini roast beef sandwich, soft pretzel, candy apple
Italian: white pizza, kobe meatball, coffee gelato
Japanese: California roll
Chinese: spring roll, orange chicken
Thai: stir fry udon noodles
Mexican: guacamole
P.S. Sorry Grams, but we absolved ourselves of observing Lent today since Vegas has its own rules. I only tasted a little of each item, but yes, my belly was full.
So, "forced" to enjoy another night in Vegas, we headed back to Treasure Island to meet up with Brent, who has turned into quite the Pai Gow addict. We found him at a table around 2:30 p.m. and he shared that he was obsessed and hadn't eaten yet or ventured anywhere outside of TI (where he stayed) or the Wynn, despite it being his first visit to Sin City. We played for a while and then parted ways after warning him about condo and nudie girl solicitors so he could see the sites before his flight (he was headed out West, so his flight wasn't affected). He texted to say that Vegas is like Disney World for adults and was so overstimulated, he wasn't sure what to do. Good times.
Phil and I didn't lose money after playing for a while, so we were happy. The Pai Gow gods smiled down on our table because the guy next to us hit two straight flushes with a $25 chip on the bonus slot, which earned him $1,250 each time. Holy moly. When we decided to head out, I went to the bathroom and returned to find Phil feeding money to a slot machine. He put in a $20, did three spins worth $2 each and then won $100! I made him cash out so we could leave on a high note, Costanza style. Woo hoo!
We stopped in the Venetian Grand Canal shops, and as Phil was watching the opera singers and gondoliers, I sneaked a shirt dress purchase from BCBG (yesssssss). Headed back to the Wynn to re-check in and then grabbed a sandwich from an ala cart shop and parted ways: Phil to unload the rest of the money burning a hole in his pocket and me to relax, blog and achieve an early bedtime (aka lame-o).
So here we are. I'm ready to go home and see my babies. I know Zippy is in good hands, but I've been worried about my kitty since this is the longest she's been home alone. I keep having dreams about her. We called Phil's friend who helped us with some carpentry during our kitchen renovation last year to see if he could check in on her since he still has our key, but turns out that he lost it. Phil assures me that Ava is fine, but I miss my baby kitty and hope she's OK.
Wish us luck getting out of here tomorrow a.m. so we're not stuck at the airport playing the crappy-odds slots.
The Venetian
ReplyDeleteLove the venetian! And I love that the shops at 4 a.m. make you feel like it's actually 10 a.m. That works well for you when you're trying to pull an all-nighter. Phil should've gambled there. :) Hope you both make it back safe...and hope the kitty is A-OK! Looking forward to your visit down south soon!