Tell me; I wanna know. Besides people throwing coins--cha-chung--into machines? There was a time when I felt a frisson of something or other when travelling to Nevada. But it didn't last. I just don't have the constitution or something for serious gambling. I'm always sure I'm going to lose.
I was here last about four years ago, and: my my, how you have grown, Las Vegas. The building and the buildings are overwhelming. Bricks and mortar on steroids. But I can't help wondering who's crying now that the market has done its double-dip.
I'm waiting to go to a party. It starts about now and finishes about midnight. Then another party starts at nine and goes until.... I'm thinking I may be too old for this. That kind of partying works best, I've found, when one is on the hunt. Then it's exciting to see what quarry might be lurking. Alas, my guns are rusty and my moccasins are down at the heel.
Speaking of which, I left the major pieces for my carefully planned party clothes hanging in the closet at home. Freshly ironed. Waiting to be packed. Poor things, they're gonna have a long wait.
Okay, I must fluff my hair and kick up my heels--or whatever one does on a Friday night in Vegas.