Or rather, what about another two surprise trips to Las Vegas?

Yes, I know.  “I thought you were never going to Vegas again neener neener I told you so…”

My job decided last minute that we would be getting five days off for Fourth of July.  I am not sure if you have ever tried to book a last minute trip on a major holiday weekend.  Well I now have and I will tell you, it is expensive to book last minute.  Las Vegas was the cheapest option even with inflated airfare and gambling budget.  Then again in August, I was reminded I had two free days to use.  These days needed to be used in August.  Again, while not a major holiday, apparently planning any summer travel last minute is really expensive.

So yes, if I find out last minute I have extended time off work, and that time is not long enough to do things like I would like to, such as go to Turkmenistan, then I will be boring and predictable and go to Vegas.

Booking a room for the first trip was a bit annoying to say the least.  Boyd offers are back, but they start July 1.  I was going to be there either June 29 or June 30.  Rates everywhere for Friday, June 30 were insane.  Because of the holiday weekend.  The only comp I could get for July 1 was at Boyd.

I found I could get a MyVegas reward for June 29.  So I booked New York, New York as I had a great feeling about this place.  It was my favorite stop on my Strip crawl earlier this year.  I won $600 and got a massage.

I was able to book Planet Hollywood for Friday.  Comp + resort fee (fuck you.)  I have actually never stayed here.  I stayed at Aladdin, but never Planet Hollywood.  I considered cancelling New York, New York to save a move and spend both nights at Planet Hollywood, but eh, screw it.

Next three nights were celebrating the return of Boyd comps with a stay at California.  When I booked, I chose a newly renovated room.

Final night was going to be at Linq.  I have never stayed here as Linq.  Probably a dozen times as Imperial Palace, I think maybe once as The Quad (that is a stupid name) but never since the renovations.

These room moves were choppy and could have been planned better had I been given more than one week’s notice about my trip.  But if my biggest problem is that my room  moves in Vegas are awkwardly scheduled, I am a lucky person.

I left my job early and went to the airport.  Outside security, I saw a penny on tails.  Right past security, I saw a penny on heads.  I picked up the latter and put it in my bra.

I board my flight.  A loud woman comes on afterwards and I hear her asking the woman behind me “Who is sitting here?”  The woman behind me says “I don’t know.”  Loud Woman then begins to talk about how she isn’t sure where she wants to sit.  She is in an aisle seat and cannot decide if she wants the left or right one.  She wants to be next to someone interesting.  You don’t get to choose, you sit in your assigned seat.  The woman behind me tells her “Well my mother died today, so I booked an hour ago and I picked this seat because the middle one was empty.”  Loud Woman offered her condolences and then sat on the other side, quietly.

The flight went on forever.  When we were landing, I had that thing that happens often, where it feels like my forehead is being injected with very long needles. I don’t know what causes it, I  just know it huuurrrrrrrrts.

We land in Terminal 3.  Just like my trip back in March, I could not find the bus stop.  Screw it, I’ll take a cab and we can stop for cheap cigarettes.   I do and we do.  The trip to New York, New York, including the stop and a tip, came to $27.

At check in, I am asked if I want a high floor or low floor. High floor please.  I get a room on the sixth floor. Why even bother asking?

My view:

And the room:

I stop for Starbucks and then go to the Buffalo slot machine that gave me $600 back in March.  Of course, two idiots are sitting at my machine and the one next to it.  Each playing one penny at a time.  To get cocktail service.  They have a million empty bottles and a whole lot of limes all over the machines.  Like ON the buttons.  So not only are you cockblocking me from my machine, you are also both fucking slobs.  And the cocktail waitress keeps serving them.

I played next to them for a bit.  Then I just get agitated and decide it is stupid to throw money into a machine I do not want to play, just to keep my eyes on the one I do want to play.  So I grab a slice of pizza for $6.44 and head to bed, beyond annoyed.

This is what a SIX DOLLARS AND FORTY FOUR CENTS slice of pizza looks like.