Gamble, Man!

Sometimes you just get tired of losing your butt in Vegas. You can fix that by either becoming lucky, or being a Cheap Magnificent Bastard.

I'm rediscovering my frugal roots from almost 30 years ago when the Quad Queen and I would take advantage of every possible nickel and dime promotion we could find, and our combined bankroll was $80 a day. It was easier then, because Vegas was still a value destination, and cheap food abounded everywhere, including on the strip.

Not any more.

But there are still bits and pieces to take advantage of, and I've put together a trip budget of just $600 USD for a week in Vegas, all in. Fortunately, I had enough airline points to cover most of the flight cost, and hotels come in a 3 nights completely comped, and 4 nights with just the resort fee and taxes. There are some food comps in there too.

That all makes it within striking distance, with the wild card being the gambling budget, which comes in at $191 - far less per day than in 1995!

But let's get to the trip!!

I had five alarms set on three different devices for 4:00 am. I woke up at 3:15, ready to go, but waved it off and dozed.

The alarms worked like crazy, and I stumbled around the house, having coffee and my usual breakfast of yogurt, fruit, nuts, and oatmeal, and doing the needful. I pulled the Tercel onto the highway out of Flusherville at 5:20, twenty minutes later than my plan.

But it all went perfectly. I sailed over the 1000 Islands Bridge as the red hazy sunrise reflected back across the St. Lawrence river.

There was no lineup at the border and I answered the questions like a pro, except for one stumble.

"Where are you going?"

"Catching a flight out of Watertown to Las Vegas."

"Where do you live?"

"Flusherville, Ontario."

"What do you do for a living?"

"Retired."

"How much cash do you have?"

"About $160."

"What are you going to do in Las Vegas?"

"Gamble, man!"

Oops. I couldn't contain my exuberance. There was no change in the officer's expression and he continued with the questions.

And then, he handed my passport back to me.

"Good luck in Las Vegas." And a little wink and a smile.

Even the border guards want me to win.

It was an easy drive on to Watertown and I got there in plenty of time for my flight.

I chose this route partly because it's the closest possible airport to Flusherville, getting across the border is way less of a fuss than at Pearson or Ottawa, and the best thing of all - the parking is free.

Yes, you read that right. Free parking at a renowned, international airport.

It's a throwback to a simpler time. Once you're through security, there's free coffee, with a donation box.

Being a Cheap Magnificent Bastard, I donated nought. Someone would cover for me.

The flight to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania left on time and dropped me on the tarmac with almost two hours before the flight to Vegas.

I shunned the shuttle bus and got some steps in by walking from Terminal F to Terminal A, which is approximately two neighboring states away.

My health has improved significantly over the last 4 months through vastly improved eating habits, and really hard work, walking and weight training. I'm determined to try to find a balance this trip instead of eating crap for an entire week. We'll see how that goes.

To that end, and to be super-cheap, I've brought about a pound and a half of mixed, unsalted, Kirkland Punishment Nuts, and a ziploc full of oatmeal. Along with the Portable Beaker and some coffee, you're looking at a healthy, nutritious breakfasts for a week.

Fucking boring. Will there be no eggs and Country Throw-up Gravy???

And, as far as 'keeping it real' goes, I already went over budget. When I checked in for my flights, there were only middle seats available at the back of the plane, except for one sweet, lightly padded, 10,000 fart-encrusted Airbus throne window seat in row 12.

I ponied up the 37 bucks CAD and grabbed it. I think it was a good decision. I guess that comes out of my gambling budget.

Instead of buying food in the airport, I had a couple of handfuls of punishment nuts. And, in a brilliant move of infinite cheapitude, I'd brought along an empty plastic diet Pepsi bottle, which I filled up from one of the water fountains. No overpriced airport bottled water for me!

The flight was okay, but seemed so long. The seats on those airbuses are so uncomfortable. The ass pad part of the seat always seems to have about a 1" gap between the pad and the seat back, forcing you into a slouch if you want to save wear and tear on your glutes.

"Lunch."

During my travels, I consumed no less than 2 packages of Biscotti - the first such indulgence I've eaten since May. Since then, no junk food, no buns or bread, no added sugar, and very little alcohol has made its way into the Flusher gullet. I've even given up diet soft drinks, so this trip will include those as an extravagant sinful indulgence.

What have I become?!

Well, I've become 12 pounds lighter, that's what. While on Metformin, my A1C was 6.3 last spring. That drug does two things - it lowers your A1C (blood sugar reading) by 1.5 to 2 points. The other thing it does is ravage your arsehole, wringing your intestines into Pollyanna-style braids about six times a day. Enough about that.

Last week, after 4 months off the drug, my A1C was 6.2. I'm Metformin free, and have lower blood sugar than when I was on it, from the lifestyle changes I've made.

And I'm not going back.

I still have a ways to go. My goal was to lose 20 pounds, and I want my A1C in the normal range, not the pre-diabetic range.

So I'm going to keep the calories down, eat some healthy meals, get lots of steps in (easy in Vegas), but also drink my face off from time to time. A man's gotta live in Vegas, right?

Speaking of which...

The lunchbox has landed.