Return! I have returned! There's a warm feeling knowing that four people missed me.
But I digress, we need stories and pictures! I am here to provide them as part of your Monday entertainment. I shall discuss the highlights.
-I have long wanted to stay at the Bellagio Hotel and this trip, we did. I spent more money than I should have but went all out and requested the lake view room so as to enjoy the fountain show. Up 21 floors and practically dead center, we had our entertainment in the form of synchronized fountain dancing - the newest Olympic sport - every 15 minutes. The actual view from our hotel room:
-Las Vegas boasts a large number of big women in small dresses. Surely, Chris Farley's "fat guy in a little coat" shtick originated from this phenomenon. I shall spare you any pictures.
-Our Friday night entertainment came in the form of Danny Gans, Las Vegas' 10-time entertainer of the year. To me, that's remarkable. To think of all the shows the city boasts and then pick the same one ten times in a row as the best one must say something. As such, we investigated this Danny Gans and found him to be entertaining enough, but not the amazing spectacle he is described to be. He does a signing/imitating performance and when Homer Simpson and Daniel Powter are indistinguishable, I have to disagree with the lofty moniker.
-What our true Friday night entertainment was to be was instead located back in our home hotel of the Bellagio. Las Vegas' shady side no doubt includes its strip joints and escort services, a side of the city that while present was never really visible to yours truly who finds comfort in nickel slots and 11pm bed times (party animal, woo!). However, I was exposed to a little of this dark side post-Danny Gans. I regrettably do not have a picture of the scene as I desperately wanted a picture of these two women questionably dressed (well not really dressed), sharing a drink with a very sad looking man on a couch facing the casino floor. The man had his arm around one of the women, and the other in the most over the top way bursts out, "Let's drink!"
I turned to Becky and said that I had missed out on the blog post of the year as the photo of these three with the caption, "One of these three is paying for sex. Guess who," would have made you all laugh. Instead, you get a lame description and the awful reality that I actually talk about my blog while on vacation.
-Earlier on Friday, Becky and I took to the slots in an effort to win fame and fortune. As mentioned, I am not very daring and as such took comfort on a stool in front of a nickel slot. Unfortunately, I am at work right now as I failed to win the mega-progressive jackpot. Becky, however, did do reasonably well winning the single greatest total I have ever seen. With a "7-7-Double Diamond" on line 3, she captured over 160 credits. I realize we are dealing with weenie amounts, but I assure you that $8.00 is a lot of nickels.
-Outside of the fantastic room, the highlight of the trip came Thursday evening. We headed over to the New York New York casino to celebrate our second year of wedded bliss with an amazing steak dinner. Followers of the site probably realize that I have developed a refined taste for the finer dining establishments. Gallagher's proved to be worthy of my taste buds as it was among the best meals I have ever eaten. Comparable to Jester's sunset strips. Ok, a tad better.
-Sadly, all of the dining was not quite up to this high standard. For our final meal in Las Vegas, we opted for Italian and as such figured it fitting to visit The Venetian for the occasion. As such, we braved the 110 degree heat to make our way for the canal themed casino. Once there, we previewed a series of menus before deciding on Postrio. Becky in particular had found a dish that looked pleasing. A chicken meal featuring gnocchi in a natural, light sauce captured her attention. After discussing the details with the waiter, she decided that was the one for her and eagerly anticipated its arrival. What the waitor returned with was a chicken breast on top of what looked to be an onion/noodle soup and no gnocchi. Understandably, Becky was perturbed and brought the waiter back and in words more eloquent than these said, "What the hell is this?" The waiter runs off to check with the chef and after a significant amount of time returns to say that there was a mix-up and the chef is preparing the gnocchi this very moment. By now, Becky has rescued the edible chicken from the onion-noodle slop onto her bread plate and places the foreign substance away for immediate removal. A few minutes later, the table clearer kid brings this generous serving of gnocchi.
Despite my pompous attitude here on the site, I tend to be very sympathetic to establishments of any kind that regularly have to put up with the public as a result of my own career trials and tribulations. However, upon seeing this 4 inch by 4 inch serving area half-filled, I laughed loudly. Becky was rotating through a series of emotions that included but were not limited to irritation-fury-embarrassment-hunger-rage-comedy-disappointment-disgust-anger. Meanwhile, I whipped out my cell phone to snap the above photo. Ah, the Postrio.
-Lastly, we may have all underestimated the drawing power of Toni Braxton. We could have stayed at the Flamingo which really likes Toni.
That's a lot more Toni Braxton than I needed.