Leaving Las Vegas

I may have won the award for lamest Spring Break Vacationer in Las Vegas last weekend, but I’ve never let being lame cramp my style. In fact, I couldn’t have dreamt of a better weekend. It was cool in the shade, warm in the sun, and perfectly cloudless. I even had a tan for approximately five seconds. I caught up with my great-uncle Jim and great-aunt Jeanne. I played the penny slots with some old lady riding a Rascal. I drank wine outside, inside, on the patio, watching a bad cover band, with dinner, with Cheez-its and while cheering on Baylor. We accidentally rode in a limo and got $55 advice from an Eastern European woman that referred to me as “Nice Lady.” I sealed my place as the lame-o award winner by sneering at the crowds of skankily-dressed bachelorettes, pointing out every high roller poker room I saw, chickening out of taking a picture with an Elvis impersonator, ordering water from the casino bartender, and doing the cabbage patch while passing a line of club-goers. This trip couldn’t have come at a better time. I had a blast. Thanks Mom and Dad for letting me tag along!