The Meadows....ahhh. Does it make you think of grassy green terrain? Flowers swaying in the breeze. Maybe a little Sound of Music in the background. You know what I do not think of when I hear those words? Desert.
The Meadows. This is actually the Spanish translation of Las Vegas. Funny, that seems like an unusual fit to me. I can think of a litany of names for Vegas that begin with words like dirty, wicked, fun and do not end with The Meadows.
JohnnyMac just flew to Vegas. And we laughed about our last trip there. While in Vegas, I was reminded that you will experience no better people watching. A virtual visual carnival. Without the sexy costumes. Since I went to bed early the first night (oh yes, I have NO problem swishing back the dirty shots when my BFF comes to Atlanta but get to the real dirty universe, and I am a rather proper, dainty dame. Bed early? Yes. Early morning workouts? Yes. Limited cocktails? H YES!)
I was up at 7 am ready to start the day. Oh, not so fast. Day doesn't start here at 7 am as I quickly realize. In the land of neon lights, one knows better than to operate by standard tools of the everyday man. Clocks? Meaningless. Fresh air? Who needs it. Vodka and negligible cigarette haze? No shortage. As I pop downstairs for herbal tea (you have to bring your own) I see people on the tail end of their nights. Downtrodden and disheveled, nothing looks better on your countenance than an all nighter. It is one of the few cities I go to where I literally think my clothes need to be washed ten times before they can safely return to my closet.
I was up at 7 am ready to start the day. Oh, not so fast. Day doesn't start here at 7 am as I quickly realize. In the land of neon lights, one knows better than to operate by standard tools of the everyday man. Clocks? Meaningless. Fresh air? Who needs it. Vodka and negligible cigarette haze? No shortage. As I pop downstairs for herbal tea (you have to bring your own) I see people on the tail end of their nights. Downtrodden and disheveled, nothing looks better on your countenance than an all nighter. It is one of the few cities I go to where I literally think my clothes need to be washed ten times before they can safely return to my closet.
I ask the bartender (still working) for some water. He looks at me, perplexed. I show him my travel mug with a smile. And I proffer up, "it is also what you use to wash away your sins." Thankfully he laughed and didn't put me in a headlock. (You know the Vegas bartenders likely have to dish out a headlock here and there.)
There is no sense of time, except, maybe Day wraps up its shenanigans at the club or on the casino floor around 8 or 9 am, goes on hiatus until around noon, slowly rubs it eyes around 1 pm and is finally showered and ready to rumble at 3 pm. Only in Las Vegas.
It is a fun fun city, no question. The impact of iconoclastic Steve Wynn has raised the level of high gloss options away from the Bugsy Segal Flamingo to the revamped Mirage, Treasure Island and onto spacious and resplendent Bellagio, Wynn, and Encore. The shops at Caesars Forum and Pallazzo rival 5th Avenue. The four and five star restaurants increase every year, and there are more sommeliers on the strip than in all of NYC. 18 of the 25 largest hotels in the world are now in zip code 89109. The MGM Grand? Now the second largest hotel in the world. This ain't your Grand-Pappy's Las Vegas.
We went for an adult getaway. While my husband slept, I hit the first day running. Literally. Fresh from a workout, I wondered why these casinos have work out facilities. And believe me, I was not paying many visits to the gym in Vegas on any previous trips. One of the benefits of parenthood is that regardless of what time you decide to go to bed, your Mommy Clock has a permanent wake up call.
Due to chilly weather, I opted not to walk the one mile trek from MGM to Mandalay Bay. Why not take the tram. 200 other people had the same idea. It's fun to be in full body contact with Vegas visitors, especially when I observe a grown man wearing a t-shirt with the statement "Boobies make me smile" emblazoned across the front. However, I believe the woman he was latched onto was his wife. When I can literally smell alcohol being sweated off skin, I know it is an ugly morning. And I wish I had worn my "D-bags kind of give me a tummy ache" shirt.
As a large man brushed up against me, I needed a towelette to wipe off the residual redbull and jagermeister left on my skin. And don't think I am belittling the people just rolling off to bed at breakfast time. You know the ones, who turn to a pile of salt the minute they walk outside the casino and face the sun? I may have stayed out into the "no one is pretty" hours a time or two myself.
As a large man brushed up against me, I needed a towelette to wipe off the residual redbull and jagermeister left on my skin. And don't think I am belittling the people just rolling off to bed at breakfast time. You know the ones, who turn to a pile of salt the minute they walk outside the casino and face the sun? I may have stayed out into the "no one is pretty" hours a time or two myself.
I survived short tram ride to grab a great bite at Burger Bar and a quick visit to Lush for now necessary bath products.
Vegas intrigues me. You see all kinds. Tourists, Europeans, and SMF (which stands for Slick Mother Feckers). You will see Bachelorette parties Ga-LORE. Stomping around with their foot long plastic glasses filled with slushy drinks, heads donned with tiaras. The Bachelor parties come too. But you don't see them. Because they are at Spearmint Rhino....the entire weekend.
Surprisingly, you often see families with children in tow. Someone may have taken a wrong turn toward Anaheim. Few things replicate "GOOD FAMILY VACATION MEMORIES" than parading kids through a casino with smoky haze thick enough to resemble a bear skin rug and people yelling at slot machines.
And it is called Sin City for a reason. When we checked into our hotel, the staff don't assume the person with you is your spouse. Oh no, they cleverly inquire "And Mr. JohnnyMac, the young lady with you?" How wise, but wow, how representative of the debauchery that goes on here.
And it is called Sin City for a reason. When we checked into our hotel, the staff don't assume the person with you is your spouse. Oh no, they cleverly inquire "And Mr. JohnnyMac, the young lady with you?" How wise, but wow, how representative of the debauchery that goes on here.
But between the shows and entertainment options, you are no longer restricted to men with tigers or Wayne Newton. My favorite of all time: Cirque du Soleil's Love. And the restaurants? Amazing. Some of our favorites: Aureole, Bartolotta, Fiamma, NobHill, Stack but with new places opening every day, the options are fabulous.
In warm weather, rent a cabana at the pool and enjoy the top notch service of having your own tv, fan, and waitstaff bringing you snacks and beverages. All day long. And the spas? Dreamy. Nothing like a eucalyptus steam room session to treat those pores. And I certainly went to the shops at the Palazzo. Do you know this shoppingpalooza? I do which of course is why I told JohnnyMac on his departure, "Don't forget baby needs a new pair of shoes." And I am not referencing MiniMac.
My Hub will likely need some serious rest after 3.5 days in Vegas. He will be welcomed home by a giddy toddler but I will just patiently wait for the shoes.
My Hub will likely need some serious rest after 3.5 days in Vegas. He will be welcomed home by a giddy toddler but I will just patiently wait for the shoes.
