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.