Vegas...Vegas...Vegas!

While some of our group are attending the Romantic Times Convention in Houston this week, my son decided to treat me to a trip to Vegas for his birthday. (Time I got something for lugging him around for nine months...and more, as it took him a long time to walk.)

One thing that I like about Vegas is people watching. You can fill your 'character' notebook in a hurry.

In the past I've seen...an older woman with her thin grey hair teased so much that it looked like the stuff you pull out of a hairbrush. It was perched on the top of her head like a leaning bird's nest.


A man with a mustache that must have measured six inches or more from each side, complete with a curl on the end. While interesting, I wondered what it looked like wet. Ewwweee! Not attractive. I also wondered how long it took him to wax that sucker and get it to look like he wanted.

Then there was the woman who walked from the front to the back of The Jockey Club, where I was playing blackjack. Every man in the place (and moi!) stared as she undulated across the floor. She wore a chocolate colored crocheted dress, with nothing underneath. Yikes!



I looked up from one hand at blackjack and a new guy was seated beside me. It was a wonder I didn't attack him on the spot. Dark hair, three day beard and eyes that were the most fascinating that I'd ever seen. He was absolutely gorgeous. Be still my fragile heart...

There are stories as well.

For some strange reason, my daughters and I decided to save on cab fare and rode a bus. Two young men in their twenties, looking like escaped ax murderers were standing next to me (the bus was full). As we passed in front of an IHOP, one of them said, "They really know how to flip an egg." That's a line I might use in the future.

At one place we had a true doofus dealer. He looked like a total loser, down to the longish fingernails, which is a big turn-off for me. When he went on a break, the whole table was thrilled. An attractive woman came to our table. She was a pro. She could count your hand before you could, and knew before we did if we should hit or not. It wasn't long before everyone at the table lost every hand. Repeatedly. I think she bombed out one time. We were happy dancing when our doofus returned. At least we felt we had a fighting chance with him.

While at that one casino, the name of which escapes me. A bomb threat was going on. I noticed some security rushing around, but did they empty the casino. NO! I heard about it on the news the next day.

Then there was another hotel, where the fire alarm kept going off. We never left our room. The next day, we went to the wrong floor. When the elevator doors opened, the floor was dark, with the smell of smoke in the air.

There are more stories to relate...but I have to pack. See you next week.