Well, it was time once again for a business trip to Las Vegas. Honestly, I’m sick of the place. I do feel it’s a destination that everyone should see at least once in a lifetime – it’s such a spectacle. But enough is enough. I lost count a few years back when I hit something like visit number 20. For the record, they have never been voluntary trips. Always work-related.
I’m not a gambler, nor do I care for the shows. Especially when the least expensive ticket for any show starts around $100 AND after working at the convention center from 6:30am-6:30pm, it’s damn hard to stay awake past 10pm at my age.
This trip, however, was a bit different. Our staff was booked at the Renaissance Hotel, a property with NO gaming and NO smoking. There’s nothing worse than slogging through a casino at 6am to go to work and passing by people sitting at blackjack tables drinking scotch. Gag.
But before I got to the hotel, I discovered that a three-plus hour layover in Charlotte was insufficient time to allow US Airways baggage handlers to transfer my luggage between my connecting flights. Seriously. Had I known it would be so difficult, I certainly would have had enough time to claim the baggage myself and recheck it through to Vegas.
A lot of people may moan about a three-hour layover. But, as a NASCAR fan, I enjoy connections in Charlotte for the opportunity to visit the Stock Car Café at the airport. As a so-called restaurant snob, I find the food leaves much to be desired, but who could complain about an establishment that offers wine with a choice of 6- or 9-ounce options? I’ll have the triple grande Chardonnay, please!
Anyway, after checking into the hotel and advising the front desk that US Airways promised to deliver my luggage later that night (it was put on the CLT-LAS flight AFTER mine), I entered my room to see this image filling an ENTIRE wall:
This was the “art work” above the bed:
Perhaps Lola’s head was meant to top Raul’s body? But I think Vegas is the last place one wants to wake to see a headless body holding a cocktail above the bed.
But heads – or lack thereof – are never a problem when I travel for business. This crew ships with me from event to event:
After one event ends, the 50 bald heads get packed in a crate, shipped to and sit in a warehouse for a couple of months before they get shipped to the next event. When (and if) they arrive at the next destination, inevitably they are dirty. So it’s part of my job description to clean the heads.
Vegas would not be Vegas without a little bit of fun. This year, it involved a house party where some people walked into the pool fully clothed and shoed in order to give a foot massage
and a birthday girl was treated to an impromptu striptease
Viva Las Vegas, my friends!