Sorry, My Minions

It's been over a week for the three of you reading out there, but pardonne moi for the lapse in communication. I was in Vegas for three days working and didn't really have a chance to update.

I know what you're thinking - "How is he going to update from the trail if he can't do it in Vegas for three days?" Well here's my response to that - Eat it. I was working all day and then went out afterwards. I didn't have the time and when I did have the time, I was in no shape to post anything coherent.

If you don't believe me, check out this picture:

I don't remember taking this at all. The weird part is I remember before getting on the elevator and then afterwards, but the elevator ride itself is lost in a black hole somewhere out in a faraway galaxy.

I distinctly remember the beforehand because I followed these two people down to the casino floor from the Voo Doo Lounge at the Rio. It sounds stalkerish but so what? There'd be no story otherwise.

When I saw them dancing together I couldn't believe what I was seeing. This woman was stunning, absolutely jaw dropping. I mean your mouth practically started watering at the sight of her. Amazing. The guy on the other hand was in possession of a pretty conspicuous comb over and an overly large brown suit. So when I saw these two leaving together I had half a seizure and barely recovered in time to make it down with them.

But once they get out of the elevator, they started taking their sweet old time and I had to stand around waiting for them to make their way down the escalator to the ground floor (the Voo Doo Lounge is on the roof of the Rio and the entrance to the elevator is on the second floor). So I bide my time and take some pictures of the slot machines


and a casino worker walking by.

I've been there before. I understand the hanging around, making small talk, desperately hoping something would come of all the build up during the night. Typically I was shot down and would wallow in self loathing and misery for many sleepless nights afterward. I'm sure my mere presence had a corrosive effect and rusted his chances from the inside out. He went down in flames. Got the "It was fun!" and a This Is the End of the Line hug. I was pained by sense memory watching that one.

So then we have the elevator blank spot. Probably brain damage from drinking.

And right after getting off the elevator:

Now this I remember because as soon as I was done snapping this one, I decided it was time to find Randy. The thing is, I don't know anyone named Randy. But pounding on doors and yelling for Randy to let you in will convince anyone that you do.

After the sixth or seventh time, my hand started to hurt. And I had made my way back to the group of doors where my room was anyway so I figured I would have the common courtesy not to wake up my immediate neighbors.

And the dirt bag that I am, I didn't take a shower when I woke up the next morning. I actually didn't shower for the final two days of the three that I was there. If you think about it that way, I did get one kind of hiking related activity in. So I say again - Eat it.