A Moment in Vegas

Friday July 12 2013

Hello my darlings,

As you know, this week, I accompanied your Daddy to Las Vegas, where he worked.  I say "As you know...." because I clearly felt your presence with me.  Even though it is an incredibly tacky town with all kinds of interesting sights, it is a place that will always be special to me, for it is the place where your Daddy and I first met.  Hard to believe that was almost 15 years ago.

This business with the ectopic pregnancy is carrying on disturbingly long.  It is worrisome first and foremost because of any negative impact on my limited fertility and our attempts to bring forth a living sibling. I can't take prenatal vitamins, so that pushes back our attempts to be healthy.  On a more immature and selfish level, it is bothersome because of the many additional limitations:  no alcohol, limit sun exposure, limit physical activity, no adult relations with Daddy.  What's a girl to do in Vegas if she can't indulge in some hedonistic pleasures?  Lying poolside, sipping a vat of dirty martinis (as you know, I don't enjoy the fruity frou-frou cocktails that your Daddy and Uncle Marcus so do), working on a tan, then later retiring to the room with Daddy, napping and getting up to enjoy a bacchanalian feast with plenty of wine.  None of that occurred, with the exception of a nap - so NOT woo hoo!  I can't even work out and try to drop this weight that plagues me.

As funds are limited, neither of us planned to gamble, although gambling is one of the things that first intrigued me about Daddy, the way he truly understood craps and baccarat.  It felt like a whirlwind that first time he toured me through all the casinos up and down the strip.  He seemed so worldly.  On this trip, we planned to find good happy hours and stretch our dollars.

The first night, we went to Caesar's to eat at The Palm.  Your Daddy had an IPA and I had club soda.  We split prime sliders, bacon and lobster fondue and creamed spinach.  It was all good, but mostly, I enjoyed the atmosphere of a nearly deserted bar in an upscale steakhouse, free from the ignorant, ill-mannered hordes of sloppily attired tacky tourists trolling the main floors of the casinos.

Daddy had some restroom urges, so I sat at a slot machine with the interesting bonus game (like chutes and ladders, if you hit the bonus, you keep rolling until you either advance to the top or land on one of the "COLLECT" spaces, which ends the bonus).  I love slot machines with fun bonus features, but rarely land on the combination that activates the bonus.  I decided to play $20.  This was a quarter machine, with 3 coins max bet.  On my first spin, the bonus feature was activated.  I was able to keep the bonus going until I reached the 2nd to last level, and won 252 quarters.  I decided to play 4 more spins to see if I got the bonus feature again.  I did not, so I cashed out with 240 quarters ($60 for the math impaired).  I couldn't wait for Daddy to return to show him my $40 profit.

The next day, I planned to take the bus over to Fashion Show Mall (love that Neiman's and wanted to look for some black capris or maybe a new dress to go out on the town with Daddy, if any store had a good sale).  I wanted to check with the concierge to see if they offered a shuttle, but there was a line 3 deep to speak to him, so in my terrible impatience, I decided to skip it and just take the bus, especially as there was a stop directly in front of our hotel.  I researched it and found a 24 hour bus pass was $8, a bit high if you ask me, but due to my physical limitations, I had no other choice.  Normally, I would have just walked.  In one of my most stupid moves of all time, I completely ignored the bigger-than-Dallas signs posted all over the machine, proclaiming no change is given, and I slid a $20 in to the slot.  No change.... a string of profanity spewed from my lips.  I panicked and pressed the cancel button, thinking it would return my $20.  No such luck.  I was so angry at myself.  In my attempts to economize by choosing the bus instead of the taxi, I wound up spending the same amount of money, but never got to the mall.  I was so angry I felt like crying (like your Auntie Chris does when she's mad).

I just went back up to the room until Daddy returned from work. I ate Panda Express and cried and watched The Chew and cried some more.  Then Daddy called to check on me, and attempted to cheer me up by listing all these things I could do.  I assured him I was just going to stay in the room and I would be fine.  He wanted to go to Wynn for dinner, as he had had some good luck there on his last trip and liked their buffet.  The buffet was not my first choice because of cost and overeating potential so I researched other options there.  Most of their restaurants are prohibitively expensive, and with Daddy's work schedule, any happy hour was ruled out as he didn't get back to our hotel until 6:30.  We had mixed feelings on going to Aria, as that was the site of our wonderful celebratory birthday dinner with Aunt Manda and Uncle Kevin, Aunt Leah and Uncle Pete while you were still with us (we were about 16 weeks in to the pregnancy and still blissfully ignorant).  We were afraid we'd get in there and have a meltdown, so Wynn it was.

We really shouldn't have done the buffet.  First, we stood in line for 30 minutes.  Second, even with Daddy using his per diem toward his dinner, it still cost about $60 out of pocket for both of us with tax and gratuity.  Finally, the food was subpar, save for a few selections.  I've seen and tasted better sushi from the grocery store.  Their seafood selection was pitiful, snow crab sections that were overcooked, dried out and flavorless and smallish shrimp, maybe 31-40 count.  Thanks to massive inflation, gone are the days of King Crab legs and 12-16 count shrimp.  They served a snapper with tomatoes and olives that in theory should have been quite tasty, but in application, proved dried out and overly fishy-tasting.  Their prime rib was pitifully under-seasoned and tough.   There were very few vegetable selections, a pity really, as much as I enjoy good vegetables.  The only items I truly enjoyed were the pork/shrimp siu mai, the veal short ribs and a dulche de leche cake shooter.  Your Daddy tried the pekin duck and said it was delicious.  For me, other than your Daddy's company, the best part of the meal was the entertainment provided by this nasty looking customer who paraded around on 7-inch platform silver sequinned hooker shoes, sporting an overly tight black lace dress that was about an inch shy of exposing her girly bits for all to see and a permed hairstyle that was straight off a 1987 Ratt concert groupie.  I left feeling crabby and unsatisfied.   As much as I enjoy food and an opportunity to try many varied dishes, you would think I would love buffets, but I really don't.  You have to run around gathering your food like some sort of primitive caveman, fending off the rude Neanderthals hellbent on single-handedly clearing the crab table of everything but the bed of ice and a stray lemon wedge.  The only buffets I have truly enjoyed have been the seafood buffets at the Four Seasons Westlake Village and the Princeville on our honeymoon.

When we left the Wynn, I just broke out in tears, just missing you and thinking how the last time I was in Vegas, I was still pregnant with my Shelby and my Dalton.  It was very emotional.  On the drive back, your Daddy was trying to cheer me up, so I alternated between sobbing, laughing and screaming.  I was a complete emotional wreck.

The next day, while your Daddy finished his audit, I screwed up my courage to walk over to Aria and explore there.  I was determined to go by Sirio.  Some might say I was being masochistic, but I just felt driven to go there.

After crossing the skybridge and dodging hucksters and other characters, I entered at the Crystals shopping center side of Aria.  Most of the stores hadn't opened yet, so I had the place to myself.  So many high-end boutiques, Gucci, Fendi, Louis Vuitton, a 2-story Ermenegildo Zegna.  I left Crystals and noted Todd English PUB (a place your Uncle Bill and Aunt Adrienne reportedly love) had Wine Down Wednesdays, with $10 bottles of select wines.  Too bad I'm not drinking.  Your Daddy and I probably could have polished off one each, the mood we were in.  I continued on and noted Julian Serrano had a happy hour that sounded very interesting.

I proceeded to the casino, and I think your Tonta Jayne was in my head, as I decided I should look around on the floor for dropped money.  I took about 5 steps and there on the floor by the cash machine were 2 pennies, one for each of you.  I noticed there was another penny between the two machines, but I couldn't really get to that one.

As I made my way through the casino and up the escalator toward Sirio, the hotel alarm started going off.  It was an awful noise, accompanied by flashing lights and an announcement advising everyone that it was just their early warning system, no immediate need for evacuation, they were investigating the cause and would make announcements if evacuation was necessary.  I smiled to myself, for I knew the cause!  It was my little pranksters, saying hi to their Momma!  Saying "Hey Momma, we remember the last time we were all here together.  Hi! Momma, we want to eat at Sirio, are you going to eat at Sirio?"  I walked right past American Fish (by Michael Mina, the creator of the now-closed Nob Hill Tavern, where we dined with Aunt Manda and Uncle Kevin our first night in town), Jean Georges Steakhouse (we had dined at J & G at the Phoenician in the very beginning stages of our journey together), and finally Sirio.  They were just prepping for lunch, but I stood off to the side and remembered our happy time there.  The wonderful food, delightful atmosphere and special time with our best friends.  The braised rabbit sugo and handmade pasta, the delightful limoncellos Uncle Kevin bought for the table (I sipped the berry one before passing the rest to Daddy and Uncle Kevin).  How we laughed that up until that weekend, you had been sending me running to the sink almost daily, but then, with upscale treats, I did not experience nausea once the entire weekend.  We joked that Daddy would have to take on a second job to feed his little gourmands in training.  Sadly, one more daydream that will not be coming to fruition.

I just felt so comforted by the signs you were sending me.  I'm very glad I screwed up my courage and chose to walk through Aria, so I could receive the messages from you.  We later returned that night to enjoy happy hour at Julian Serrano, and it was a wonderful meal which I know you would have enjoyed.  We then took the tram to Bellagio so we could visit the sight of our "first date" (which Aunt Manda chaperoned back in '98), attending Cirque du Soleil's O.  Waiting for the tram, I noticed there were ads for 3 restaurants, Julian Serrano (where we just finished a great meal),  Jean Georges (as I mentioned earlier our early-pregnancy meal at his J & G Steakhouse) and finally, Sirio, our last great meal as a family.  Another sign.

We miss you babies.  We love receiving signs from you and hope you send us more. We know that you're being good for Tonta Jayne.

Love and kisses,
Momma