Pre Trip Routines
There is nothing like the excitement of an impending trip to Las Vegas.
While every part of the process is fun, there are distinct stages that I enjoy. Here’s my routine:
There is nothing like the excitement of an impending trip to Las Vegas.
While every part of the process is fun, there are distinct stages that I enjoy. Here’s my routine:
I know I’ve been radio silent on Twitter (yes, it’s still and always will be Twitter; I refuse to call it X) for the past few months. As I gear up for my #AnnualDestinationBirthdayPartyInLasVegas later this week, I wanted to check in and give an update on where I am at and share some lessons I’ve learned, as well as post my gambling plans to help hold myself accountable.
I don’t know the best way to start this, but lest I get in my head and talk myself out of writing it, I’m just going to dive in; I’m typing this in one go, and posting it the same night — I hope you enjoy.
Note: this post is raw and unedited. I typed it at the airport and on the plane, and posted it as soon as I landed. Please excuse any typos/autocorrect errors/lack…
My mom and I both sleep in, giving our bodies time to heal our fresh ink.
She texts me that she’s going to take a bath in her soaking tub, and we plan to meet after. Unfortunately her bath is cut short by a call from her sister that my grandpa has fallen and broke his hip. He’s fortunately alright, but that puts a damper on the final day. On my way to the room, I find a discarded White Claw box in the hall, so I crack one.
My mom and I check out at the last possible minute (protip: ALWAYS ask if they have complimentary late checkout to score an extra hour) and drop our bags at the bell desk, which is quite crowded, and head to the Strip for our last few hours.
After peeing two or three times in the night, I groggily check the clock and it’s 10:30am. I realize that I’m in Las Vegas, and am too excited to fall back asleep.
Miraculously, I’m not hungover. I drink my Verbena anyways, cause why not?
The genesis of this trip is simultaneously wholesome… and as degenerate as usual.
It all started with an offer for two comp nights at the Cosmopolitan, as well as a free companion room, that expired at the end of April 2021. (Loyal readers will know this stems from the generosity of my friend Costas, who springs for a fountain view terrace for my birthday and lets me put the points on my card).
Naturally, being the degenerate I am, I’ve got the itch to go to Vegas, but also the wherewithal to know we’re still in the midst of a pandemic and that I *probably* shouldn’t go. So I call my mom — who in addition to being my voice of reason, is also a nurse — to talk me down from the Vegas ledge.
And let’s just say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. After explaining the situation, my mom goes “Well, you wear a mask and are safe. And you live alone and work from home, so it’s low risk. I say you go.” As my mind begins to swim with the possibilities of my first Vegas trip since attending the reopening in June, she delivers coup de grace to any semblance of pandemic responsibility with the magic words “if you can’t find anyone to go with you, my birthday is in April and I’d go [since I’m fully vaccinated since January].”
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