Headed up the I-15 with the other 1.2 bajillion people wanting a weekend in the desert. We left Saturday morning and made quick work of the 275 miles. Christine and I hit the strip for the second time.
Now we had a plan. Having been here before prevented us from suffering sensory overload. We started at the Aladdin, looked for grandma. Got a hold of Tine’s Aunt Linda – still couldn’t find the elusive grammy. Went up to the NY-NY to hit the Manhattan Express Coaster. Worked our way over to the Sahara and hit the Speed Coaster. At this pont we had satisfied our requirements for the weekend.
Back to the Aladdin to meet up with Grandma and crew. We grabbed the car and hustled over to the Rio. Hustled being a better word for “Drove like I was in New York.” Cars going everywhere, taxis, no-U-turns. Zip-zip.
At the Rio they have one of the famous Vegas Buffets we couldn’t find last time we were here. I settled in to the first strike. Here there are no rules like “no breakfast with dinner” or “no cookies with meat.” It’s anything goes! So I grabbed 4 tuna rolls, 2 CA rolls, some soybeans, and a pound of pulled pork. Sushi & BBQ – Andrew would be proud.
We played the slots a little. We enjoyed ourselves. But this trip cemented the fact that Kris & Christine are not Vegas people. I have a bit of a sore throat and Tine has a cold. The smokers everywhere didn’t help. If you time portaled from 1950 with a pack of Chesterfields in your pocket you would be happy to see that you can still enjoy a smoke. Smoke two. Ashtrays in the urinals.
Sunday it rained… This happens apparently whenever we show up. It’s a sign. Enjoyed another brunch buffet with some more of Christine’s aunt’s friends. We left in the downpour at 2:00.