EPA Certified

Day 3 - I had a pretty lousy night, and I am pretty sure the COVID was to blame.

Yeah, I was sick. I woke up a few times sneezing, had a nose that ran as bad as the broken leaky tap in the bathroom sink.

Fortunately, I'd packed every COVID drug that the Quad Queen had needed, and a whole bunch more.

While she was ill, I tested and tested, positive I would get it. I wish I had gotten it then, back in Florida, not on day 2 of a Vegas trip.

So, I began a regimen of three kinds of antihistamines, decongestants, Tylenol, supplements, lozenges, tinctures, effervescents, calcium, magnesium, gymnasium, collagen, ashwagandha, Tiger Balm, Rub A-535, and WD-40.

"This is stuff I'm treating the COVID you gave me with," I said to the Quad Queen, showing her my portable pharmacy.

"Look at all that crap you're taking! You can't possibly keep that up!"

"Hmm, you're right. I'll add some Viagra."

Let's be clear. I felt absolutely horrid.

Jimmy Poon takes a break from running my tech stuff to clear the driveway up north.

One thing that cheered me was to check the camera I'd had Jimmy Poon set up back in Flusherville. And I caught Jimmy Poon in the act and immediately phoned him.

"Jimmy Poon, make sure you plough right to the edges of the driveway, and Goddammit, make sure those edges are straight."

I couldn't hear Jimmy Poon's reply through the howling wind in the background.

What was the point of having Jimmy Poon take care of my place in Flusherville if he wasn't going to give it 110%??

I did my in-room coffee, and had a couple of those breakfast sandwich things I'd bought at Walmart. I got a kind that had a frittata on the outside instead of a biscuit or English muff. Less carbs. Turns out less taste as well. Or was it me?

We'd really loaded up with stuff at Walmart - pretty much all the drinks we'd need for a week, including liquor, fruits, pickles, vegetables like tomatoes and some broccoli florets that would heat beautifully in the HotPockRockets, sandwich stuff galore, and some surprises for Christmas as well.

Using incredible judgement, a rare feat for me, we'd brought up only the things we'd need at Mandalay Bay from the car, and left most of the drinks, and some of the less temperature sensitive foods in the RAV 4.

One thing that I thought was pretty smart, since the Quad Queen thought of it, was to get two big plastic jugs to hold the ice that goes in the two insulated bags we use to keep stuff cold. It's brilliance. See the two Rubbermaid drink containers? Fill those babies up with ice in one trip to the ice machine and place them in the insulated bag. Nice and cold for 18 hours or so, easy as hell to dump the melted ice, and NO LEAKS.

Room Camping DeLuxe - See my jugs?

MGM hotels have a history with me of not applying resort credits to my bill, and not removing things they promise to remove from my bill. This happens over and over, and I end up having to fight to get what I was promised.

Before checking out, I looked at the online folio and only one night's resort fee was removed, not the two young Jonathan promised.

I got on the blower and explained the situation, and was told they'd take that right off the bill.

Another check of the folio showed a final bill of $5.58. Cool.*

Shockingly, the $50 resort credit with my offer was already applied against the sad House of Blues dinner we'd had, without me having to fight for it. Wow.

Slowly, slowly I packed up for the move to our next destination.

We managed to get new ice in the insulated bags and haul everything down to the Toyota in one trip.

As a bonus, we'd gotten El Primo Spotto in the Mandalay Bay parking structure. Because my energy level was tanked.

When I unlocked the car and opened the back, I caught a wiff of something, but figured someone had puked somewhere in the garage. Nice.

We put our suitcases and whatnot into the back and I gingerly got behind the wheel.

"Do you smell that?" I said to the Quad Queen. "It doesn't smell right."

I drove out of the parking structure and aired out a bit. As we pulled onto the strip, I closed up the windows again. At the next light, that smell.

"Did you notice how the car was covered with brush and pine needles and dirt and broken branches?" I asked.

"It's like it was abandoned halfway up a mountain, just at the top of the tree line, with a dead body in it."

"Yup. Exactly like that. That faint smell... of death."

Oh my God. 

And then I remembered the little sticky note. If I was pale before from COVID, I was even more deathly pale now at my realization.

"That sticky note that was on the dash when we picked this thing up? Remember that?"

I pulled it from the drink holder and handed it to the Quad Queen.

The Queen read the sticky and proclaimed, "We're riding in the EPA Fucking Certified Deathmobile,"

*After returning home, my credit card showed a charge for one night's resort fee. Even after all of that. If you stay at MGM Resorts, pay attention, or pay them.

This post dedicated to my generous ko-fi people YoLeven, B.J., and C.L. Thank you!