The Papagiorgios Go To Vegas

So, off we went to Las Vegas, which, if you live in Southern California, is actually not far away and with a little planning, a place you can drive to in about 4 hours.  And that includes stopping at The Mad Greek for "the world's best gyro", having a gander at the "world's tallest thermometer" and shopping for alien jerky at the Alien Fresh Jerky Store.

And all this is before you even arrive in Las Vegas.

Owing to the delightful fact that my girlfriend's developer uncle very cleverly decided to build himself a resort in Sin City our accommodations were of the free sort which of course in turn frees up all sorts of money for gambling and vodka.

Now Jenn and Chad are Vegas professionals and by that I do not mean hookers but I do mean experts at navigating the ever expanding hotels-shops-bars-and-restaurants.  Jenn is one of those Type A gals who books reservations in advance, arranges for cabs and arrives precisely 1 minute before she is due to be somewhere and then waits in her car for 30 seconds.

She is also rather disgustingly pretty and is a brown belt in karate and I sometimes wonder if it is rather perverse of me to like her so much.

Chad is more focused on things like making sure we have party cups and cocktail fixins' and so between the 2 of them they are ideal travel mates as Hugh and I are able to coast along in an liquor haze knowing that if we just draft behind them (Jenn is a fast walker while I am a stroller which is left over from 10 years of being Jack's mother... Jack likes to stop and smell the roses) we will certainly end up someplace fabulous.

Here's a fun Las Vegas fact:  if the host of one of the more chic and trendy bars offers you and your friends a "line jumping" stamp so that you can stand around and look good in his bar and maybe take a table which of course requires a bottle purchase (as long as you don't mind paying $450 for a bottle of Grey Goose) they will say to you, "You have a good look"... which you will, for some reason, find immensely flattering and you will make everyone in your party get the lame much coveted stamp because wow, what an honor to get to jump the line.  It's almost like a Disneyland Fast-Pass or cuts in the cafeteria.  

It's also quite fun when a woman compliments you on your large cocktail ring and says, "I just love green" and then, after a moment, clarifies with, "I don't mean like the environment, fuck no, I mean green like the color."  

Because Hugh and I are geeks and one of us maybe is a little obsessed with factoids and information we went out to Hoover Dam on Saturday while Jenn and Chad behaved like proper vacationeers and spent money at the Forum Shops, but enough of that, let's talk about how saying, "I want to take the dam tour" and "Where is our dam guide" and "Let's head into the dam souvenir shop" does not get old but rather, more funny.

It's also entertaining to contemplate going to see Bite.

Because God likes our husbands, all of our cocktail waitresses looked like this ---->

We thought about putting a couple of them in our pocket to take

home to EvaJun, but then, we thought about my last blog post

and realized that we'd just be inviting sin.

I jest!  I kid!  I joke!

I would actually have lots of other photos to show you but due

to a rather involved and lengthy scenario which includes but is not limited to the dog eating through the laptop charger cord as

well as that very laptop being deader than a doornail as well as the very long wait for the new charger to be delivered... and add to that the fact that the everything went black just after I uploaded my photos... well, you get the picture.

Or actually you don't. Get the picture(s)... ha ha!  

And in case you were wondering we did not, in fact win Mega Bucks, but Hugh and Chad did "bust" at a blackjack table in a record .02 seconds.  The dealer, Bing from Canton, was a bit resentful of her $15 table and her unspoken hate was felt in every flick of the wrist... she managed to say, "You are wasting my time" without ever uttering a word or making eye contact.  She also managed to cure my husband of whatever wee little gambling urges that pulled at his heart... he is now opting to fill jelly jars with his spare change and bury them in the backyard.

The end.