What do you do with a drunken sailor in The eye of every storm

We landed in shorts weather, the sun feeling closer to earth, radiating our skin, and immediately hailed a cab to our hotel, New York New York. This whole trip came together last Thursday, when I found the room rate of $72/night, and Katrina had never been to Lost Wages. The cab ride was pleasant, but I had a hard time understanding the driver. He seemed nice, his balding olive skin atop his forehead having an innate smile in addition to the one below his eyes. He handed our bags to the concierge since we were early, and we did what only seemed insanely natural to do when one arrives in Las Vegas: we went to play air hockey.

Katrina is a vicious air hockey player. She plays with fury and a tenacity that furls her brow before she pelts the disc a million miles an hour towards my fingers, threatening to smash them into a million pieces. Instead of hitting my fingers it just goes into the slot, earning her yet another point. We played several more games, and in fear, emotionally exhausted, I announced her the Supreme Air Hockey World Champion.

While waiting on our room, we then managed to squeeze in some time at the Nine Fine Irishman pub, having several pints of Smithwicks and Macgregors. It was nice, sitting there talking to her, and people watching, laughing, and simply being in her presence. Much of the time when I’m working, I work multitudes of doubles and overnight shifts and then string together 7-12 days off in a row from the ensuing trades. The downside is we rarely see each other, so it’s become evident these 7-12 days need to count. Besides, I’ve damn near seen the entire world already, and she’s young, and I’m happy to use my benefits to show her wonderful things outside of Tejas.

Our room came available, and we found pleasant accommodations on the 16th floor overlooking Las Vegas Blvd and its depravity. She napped, and I went and rode the rollercoaster, and found myself several rounds of Wild Turkey, giving her the full “leave-me-alone” nap time she required.

After meeting up, we headed North on the Blvd, weaving our way in and out of the colossal casino’s, climbing elevated walkways from street-to-street connecting each monolith. I took her to the Bellagio, where we admired the Gardens’ Lantern festival display. We gazed at the Dale Chihuly ceiling, marveled at the rich and glamorous exit their limo’s (that part is a lie, we made fun of them), and walked the fountain to get a prime spot for the water show.

“It’s going to be proud-to-be-an-American,” I told her, and she laughed and leaned in close and told me I was silly. The show started, the lights dimmed, and the water cannons fired in unison with Lee Greenwood’s classic as Katrina gave me the how-did-you-know look. (It’s been that song at night for eight years)

We had drinks at the Beatles themed Revolution night club in the Mirage before settling onto a rather expensive Italian place for dinner. Eating on the second terrace above the canal’s of the Venetian, we were completely under-dressed, and we looked confused when the waiter asked what type of water we preferred. I said regular, and he repeated that I would like Still water. Katrina ordered Still water, learning quickly.

We ate, and walked our way back to New York New York but not before stopping to take in Las Vegas from the new High Roller observation platform, which was a terribly boring waste of money....

We showered and made love and she fell asleep and I went downstairs and gambled, winning $147.00 from the Wheel of Fortune slot-machine, and another hundred from roulette. I watched an irish band wail out the drunken sailor song, had a Reece’s Peanut Buttercup martini (amazing!) and then went to bed myself.

Today was mild and tame. We ate a decent breakfast, and I lost some more air hockey. I taught her how to play slot machines, and smiled as her $20.00 brought her $23.50 more than she started with, and the $20 I used on the machine to teach her with netted us another $500.00

About forty minutes ago we flew over the Grand Canyon at sunset and it was beautiful. I remembered standing on it, watching the sun vanish behind the cliffs, and how remarkable the earth’s artistry truly was; once again, glancing down I confirmed this master-piece from 40,000 feet.

Now our plane sways back and forth and up and down in vicious turbulence. If I don’t wrap this up, I fear I may spill my cocktail. So without further ado, adieu.