Have You Ever Been Experienced?

by

The first free thing I’ve enjoyed thus far in this trip is the wi-fi at McCarran Airport.  After thirty minutes of security checkpoint, it is the least they can do.  Kudos to the security goons for getting various Vegas acts to participate in their little propaganda film extolling the sheep on the importance of removing shoes and not having a bottle of Gatorade in the name of fighting the Global War on Terror.  Extra kudos for Penn & Teller for refusing to participate in the aforementioned film.

Last night we checked out the Fremont Street Experience.  Since I last was in Downtown Vegas back in the halcyon days leading up to the First Gulf War, they have installed a ginormous video screen roof over the Fourth Street/Fremont area.  Binions, Fitzgeralds, Gold Nugget, Four Queens and the rest are now located in a pedestrian only environment.  The hotels have also been renovated since my last visit and look pretty nice for downtown. 

Our trip coincided with a huge biker show dowtown.  All of the downtown hotels were full of honest to God bikers and their women.  These aren’t the fake bikers who hang out at places like the Red Door and Broadway Brewhouse.  You know, the guys who are lawyers and chiropractors during the week, but on the weekend they and their aging sorority sister wives with the $300 purse that matches their biker apparel decide they absolutely MUST have, cruise the Natchez Trace in a vain effort to recapture their lost youth.  No, these are more like the dirt under the fingernails, hangs out at the Bikini Bar in Antioch, getting teenage girls pregnant kind of bikers.  The difference is like that of the Vanderbilt Commodores and the Oakland Raiders.  Yeah, they both play football, but the similarities end there.

Once dark hits, the video screen above plays an America The Beautiful montage that is technically dazzling but has less soul than a Michael Bay movie.  It has a cheesy craptacular appeal for those who appreciate such things.

Half a block down Fourth is the best place we ate the whole weekend.  It is a quiet little hole in the wall called Thai Vegas.  Whenever possible eat at little hole in the wall joints.  What they lack in decor, they make up in honest food.  This place was no exception.  Mrs. Sarcastro was less enthused.

"Are you sure about this place?  It looks filthy.  There are ants on that table.  Where’s their health inspection score?"

"Why don’t you go back to Brentwood, you whiny titty-baby", I muttered under my breath.

"What did you say?", she asked sharply.

"Nothing, dear."

If marriage has taught me anything, it is how to pick my battles.

The food, despite the snobbery of certain quarters, was damn good.  Of all the meals we had in Vegas it was the most satisfying.  We got out of the shakedown atmosphere of the casinos for a little bit and got something that wasn’t on a buffet or criminally over-priced.

Southwest has fucked us again.  Not only are we in "B", but our plane is only an hour away from getting here.  Which is great considering that we should have taken off by now.  Hopefully, we will get out of here before the daily dust storms, which have made the runway look like a bad day in Baghdad, start up. 

Once our perpetually delayed flight makes it back to Nashville, I’ll post all of the pics.

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