I decided to blog events as they happened., and they're all gonna be snapshots because I decided to use my G1 to write down events as they were happening. I cleaned up most of the spelling or typing errors. Its hard to type while holding a drink and gambling at the same time.
We get to the Redmond airport, which is apparently under constant construction. Check in goes smoothly, as I've remembered to remove all of the bullets from my pockets, unlike the last trip to Nevada.
The departure area for our flight looks like a waiting room for an old folks home, or maybe the factory where they make soylent green. I see bedazzled pants, bedazzled shirts, bedazzled jackets, bedazzled purses, and bedazzled shoes. Big permed hair. Canes. Oxygen tanks. A mullet. Matching pantsuits. Sexy.
The walk to the plane is ridiculous. We walk 100 yards one way, then do a U turn and walk 200 yards the other way. Walking through the same ghettoass plywood corridor that was here the last time I flew in September. The average age on the flight is 76, and I'd be willing to bet that Becki is the youngest person on the plane, followed by me.
The stewardess just said "for any of you who BYOB, and I don't mean bikinis hee hee, please stow them for the duration of the flight." WHAT?? I could have brought booze with me? Where the fuck is that on the TSA website???
They play games on the flight. I win two free meals at the buffet. One of the games involves the passengers writing their seat number on a dollar and then putting it into a trashbag. The head steward collects the money and then says "you know why I love America? Because a black man can ask people to put money in a bag and they just do it! Haw haw haw". Later he tells a joke about a bank robber shooting people in the head.
The flight ends, and the airport is decorated with bombs and piles of dirt. Awesome. The waiting area has a no-touch machine that dispenses hand sanitizer. I am awed by its futuristic sanitary magic.
And now we're on a bus to take us to the hotel. It smells like pee and is filthy. So filthy I'm able to write "pee?" in the dirt that coats the floor.
News flash: apparently the pee smell was the old man with the eyepatch who was sitting in front of us, and who is now standing next to me in the elevator. I need a drink. Badly.
The Rainbow is surprisingly nice. I thought it would be ghetto, but the room is nice. The bed is comfy, the pillows are soft, and it has wall to wall mirrors so I can pick up a cougar and watch myself fuck her. Claaaasssy.
Our hotel welcome packets have things like coupons for a free drink, or 5 bucks off food, or 20% off the gift shop. It also has a little note reminding guests to keep extra medication on them for medical emergencies. Its obvious they cater to the elderly, and also obvious that they'd rather keep them on the casino floor instead of in their hotel rooms.
Jon and Beckis room is much the same except for the gigantic black in room jacuzzi. Oh, and the mirrors on their walls extend to cover a second wall and the ceiling above the jacuzzi. I'm hoping the stains on the ceiling mirror are water from the jacuzzi and not semen.
Luckily the hand sanitizer machines are everywhere.
We walk far too much for being on vacation. I want to be a fat lazy American and take shuttle buses between the casinos. Instead we walk a lot the first day between the casinos and the concert hall. There's a surprising amount of astroturf on the casino grounds.
We go to see Loretta Lynn and again are the youngest people there as the median age is now approximately 86. Again there are hand sanitizers everywhere in the concert hall. Also 8 dollar screwdrivers. Weak 8 dollar screwdrivers dispensed from a machine and served in a tiny plastic cup. Horsecrap.
Loretta Lynn was glorious. She might be like 96, but she put on a damn good show. Her dress was sparkly and awesome and probably inspired half the audience to bedazzle some more shit. She should sell bedazzlers at her merch booth along with her autographed gospel cd's.
Also her granddaughter came on stage, and was wearing a dress that made it look like she had a dick she was tucking back. I thought I was crazy but Jon saw it too. Yeah, the moral is that we sometimes look at girls crotches. Sorry ladies.
Ed Hardy shit is lame. I'm sorry, but I hate most of it. If you're wearing some Ed Hardy shit with some bedazzles then you're probably a fucking douche. And if I ever wear any Ed Hardy shit you have my permission to punch me in the groin. Obviously you see a lot of Ed Hardy shit on dbags from Salt Lake City who are gambling in Wendover. And it makes me angry for some reason.
Oh no, I've progressed to angry drunk stage.
Side note: If you're 80 and wearing Ed Hardy shit to a Loretta Lynn concert you're actually pretty cool. This is because you're trying so hard to be young that you progress past ridiculous and into so-ridiculous-youre-cool. Go, old man, go. I hope that sparkly Ed Hardy shit hat gets you laid and that the viagra kicks in so you can actually perform.
*The next few entries from the rest of the night are pretty much garbled gibberish. I believe I might have been drunk at the time. They mention something about how much I hate slot machines, how the water here sucks, the showerhead is a lowflo crap design, and how I need to get laid.