Air Fried Flusher

Vegas is hot. Scorching. 109F or so when I landed. I strolled off the plane, took the obligatory photo, and immediately did something stupid.

Day 1 - Saturday August 22 - part 2

The long long escalators descend into the Tram Devil's Pit of Despair.

As everyone does, I gazed at the aluminum and rather pointy model airplanes lining the slippery slope between the down and up escalators and ponders just what sort of rectal damage they would do if one were to be so foolish as to slide down the slippery slope, which is the whole reason they are there.

At the bottom, what did I see? Throngs of people jammed in the line-up for the Terminal 1 tram - and nobody going to Terminal 3.

I thought, "Why, I'll just go to Terminal 3 and get a rental car shuttle from there, skipping the incredible crowding of Terminal 1." Seemed brilliant at the time.

The tram came, I got off, and entered the ghost town of an almost empty Terminal 3. Great! Walked to the north end and went outside. Sweet Jesus on a Weber, it was hotter than hades out there.

Oh my Gawwd it was hot. The shuttle area was deserted, and the wind was blowing. And that makes it 10 times worse.

Also, no shuttle.

Also, no shuttle after 5 minutes.

Also, no shuttle after 10 minutes.

I beeped three times and turned myself around 180 degrees.

The stupid fucking shuttle took 20 minutes to arrive and I was toast.

If you've experienced this, you know of what I speak. If not, I hope I used my words effectively to relate the skin-blistering dessicating horror heat wind of Vegas in the summer.

Aboard, I messaged the lovely Mrs. G and let her know I'd be at Silverton soon.

Hertz hadn't sent any messages about the car, and I had a hell of a time logging into their app. But in retrospect, I was a good hour and a half before the time I'd said I would arrive.

The counter Sheila sorted me out and I actually got the car I'd booked, which manifested itself as a black Volvo SC 60 with a stupid indecipherable combo push stick push button transmission, and a similarly indecipherable key fob.

But I'll tell ya, this baby has only 800 miles on it, it's comfy and quiet and goes like hell. Drives really nicely.

Silverton was an easy find - left on Las Vegas Blvd to Blue Mountain, and then follow everyone else going to Silverton.

I parked, got in touch with Mrs. G, and we located each other away from Bobby. And then the Big Moment was finally at hand.

I phoned him and sang in sweet dulcet tones, "Let's all go to the lobby, let's all go to the lobby..." as I walked around the corner.

Big hugs all around! He was pretty surprised to see me and it was all worthwhile.

Mission accomplished.

We sat at the bar for an hour or so and shot the shit while I had my first video poker action of the trip on  Double Super Slippery Frying Flipping Fracking Times Pay. It went well for a while but in the end, ate my hundy, save for a few cents which I donated to Mr. G.

I wished him luck.

He didn't need it.

The lad went on a tear after I left, savvily bumping the denoms up as he hit Aces upon Aces, finishing with a $4000 hand pay. Well done, Bobby!

Meanwhile, I parked at the Cal and checked in.

I walked into my room and HOLY BURNING HELL - the room was HOT AUGUST NIGHTS HOT.

For some inexplicable, stupid, asinine reason, the thermostat was set to 86 degrees. In HEAT mode!

Well. I made some quick adjustments, loaded the safe, and of course, I had no other option but to go and gamble in the casino.

It was a pretty quiet session. I played $100 on dollar Jacks and lost it.  Put in another and finally got my first quad of the trip.

Eventually I played through all of that and tried $20 on 50 cent Double Double. Got a second quad and played that down to about $40.

I switched to dollars and got Ace Ace Ace Three Thud. One card off of $2000. It was BobbyG's night, not mine.

It was a great day all around, and the damage wasn't too bad for the first night -  $320 down.

 

 

The Pre-Walk of Shame

Breakfast buffet at the hotel - $24.95. I don't think so, you mooks. Because I have lounge access at the airport.

Day 1 - Saturday August 22 - part 1

It was BobbyG Flambe Surprise day at last! And a beautiful morning in Toronto.

I felt like utter crap, but one has to get on with it, and after a long shower, that's what I did.

My flight was scheduled for 1:00 pm so I would have a fairly leisurely morning until then.

I packed up all my stuff, and walked over to the airport. No shuttle, no taxi, no bullshit, just a nice five minute stroll.

Security was pretty easy. I have Nexus and Precheck, plus I am Internet Faymus. Still, they always rip apart certain things for a hand check. But I know this and pull out the stuff they want to see.

The Portable Beaker kettle dealy. (The Little Giant is back in Florida.)

The 250g package of ground coffee.

The CPAP.

But it went quick, and the border dude didn't give me a hassle and before I knew it, I was up the elevator, ready to give the finger to Air FU Canada.

Normally, First Class domestic travel in the States does not get you lounge access. But because I'm crossing an international border, I get to use the lounge. United is a Star Alliance partner with AC. And United doesn't have their own lounge in Toronto.

And so it was that I waltzed into the Maple Leaf Lounge, ready to ravage them for all the calories I could.

There were definitely some breakfast foods and I made the most of it!

To really slam it home that I was the boss and a 'somebody', I took a chocolate chip cookie out of the lounge when I left. That's how Flusher rolls.

I boarded the flight to Chicago and off we went.

There was some turbulence due to a transient high El Nino low pressure front trough zone or some shit.

The transient high El Nino low pressure front trough zone.

We arrived in Chicago and taxied for about three hours, which is typical for the O'hareport. 

I was a bit disoriented in the terminal, but everything fell into place. The Bank of America was on my way to Terminal B, so I did the Pre-Walk of Shame.

The big tunnel led me to my gate which was across from the United lounge. Couldn't be easier.

I beeped in no problem at all and - holy moly, what an upgrade from the sad sack Maple Leaf Lounge.

I wasn't hungry, particularly, and it didn't matter. Look at what was on offer!

There was whole other bar of salad and other stuff, not pictured, and of course a full bar.

The flight to Vegas boarded on time, but it took forever to get off the ground. As we took off I counted 11 planes waiting to leave - the line we'd just waited in.

They changed the plane to an older 737 so the wifi was useless. No matter.

I decided to watch a movie - Project Hail Mary - which was quite long and kept me entertained through the flight.

And so did various distractions such as Buffalo Trace on ice, and the delicious meatballs I had for dinner.

There was some incredible cloud art on the way - just super dramatic views.

Before I knew it, we were descending into Vegas.

Which is where I made the stupidest blunder.

First Day Minus One

How much do you want to know? I packed.

I kept it simple and as quick and efficient as possible. That meant 2 hours of packing on Thursday night and 6 hours on Friday, departure day.

Day 0 - Friday August 21

My buddy Dwiggie volunteered to whisk me to the Flusherville train station. He was right on time - 45 minutes early.

No matter, it gave us time to talk.

It was pretty much a perfect summer's day and we spent some time in the diminutive Business Class lounge at Flusherville Station. Amenities include five folding chairs and a half a case of warm Coke sitting on the floor.

As an expert, savvy traveler, I'm always aware of my environs. I gave Dwiggie the folding chair that wobbled.

Departure time neared so we went outside and reveled in the perfect weather.

We got talking about all kinds things. Dumb things. Guy things.

"You know, Dwiggie, I have this weird thing," I said, motioning him closer, because I do not want anyone to know this weird personal thing about me. He leaned in.

"Almost always, when I check in to a hotel and first go into my room, I immediately have to have a visit from the Major."

"Major Dumperooski?"

"Yup," I said, nodding sagely. "If it happens this time, I'll text you a code word. Shabba"

"I really don't need to know this," said Dwiggie, just as the train pulled in.

I got on board and we waved goodbye like I was an 11 year old heading off to camp. 

And off I went (hopefully) in the direction of Toronto.

It was a smooth ride. I was seated facing backwards, but that doesn't bother me.

The service included dinner - I opted for the beef brisket Mac 'n Cheese.

The brisket was pretty yummy but drowning anything in a quarter cup of Bullseye will make anything taste good. The Mac 'n was delicious. There was a little salad complete with a little slice of some sort of cheese, and a little round of some sort of fruit - I don't know what it was.

There was a Nanaimo bar that was meh - the truffles they handed out later were a much better chocolate.

Pictured up there is a beer, and I enjoyed it immensely. Not too heavy, not to hoppy, not too bitter. It had a beery start and a beery finish with notes of IPA, beer, yeast, hops and alcohol.

We arrived in Toronto around 7:00 pm and I was still hungry, so I snarfed down a McDick's Double Cheeseburger and then headed to the airport on the Union Pearson Express. Six bucks and change for this senior gambling citizen.

Before the trip, I'd carefully sussed out that I could really walk from Terminal 3 to the hotel, and it turned out that yup, I could. There were even tracks worn in the bit of grass you have to cross from people's luggage. It was easy and safe.

A tear came to my eye as I passed the dog relief area. I thought of Chippy and all the reliefs I'd watched her do. And then carefully bagged them for storage until Christmas.

Move on, Flusher! Don't dwell on the furry past!!!

There it is! The walkable airport hotel!

I've run into this before - the hotel touts the magic virtual digital key thingy - and then it never arrives and you have to pick up a key at the desk. Bait and latch!!!

This was the case at the Four Points by Whoozis Sheraton Etc. I waited about 10 minutes and went up to inspect my room.

I was pleasantly surprised!

I had a couple of snorts of the Old Nasty that I brought with me, cut with the free Terrier water that came with my new-found La-di-dah Gold status (thanks to Platinum Amex) and pounded out a blog post.

Gotta keep up with that or it becomes insurmountable during the trip.

The main problem I had with the room was the temperature. There was a wall mounted unit with conflicting instructions.

The air conditioner had two modes - arctic blizzard winds, and nothing. And it took turns doing that all night long.

I had what I think was a down duvet and I woke up after a few hours drenched in sweat. Kicked that off and then I was freezing. After a bunch of wake-ups, I finally got up and adjusted the blizzard to sleet.

It all made for kind of a crummy night, but that's the way it goes sometimes.

For some reason, I'd forgotten the technique of running such a wall-mounted beast until the room is cool, and then shutting it off for the night and hoping for the best. Not savvy.

One way or the other, tomorrow I would be going to Las Vegas to give BobbyG an unexpected mental atomic wedgie.

Oh - I forgot something. Just after I got to my room, I messaged Dwiggie.