Day 3 Las Vegas - Part III

Still SUBTITLED: Blimey! Bay Breaks Big Buggy!

Day 3's stats
Time of Day: 7:00 p.m.
Modes of Transportation Broken So Far: Airplane, elevator, moving walkway.
Modes of Transportation Left To Be Broken: 2
Number of Famous People Encountered: 2
Number of Famous People We Actually Admire: 0
Food: Grand Turkey Club, Lemon Extravaganza
Drunken people encountered: Innumerable
Singing Gondoliers: 1
Weddings seen: 1
Living Statues: 1
Chinese dragon parades: 1
Chinese tourists reveling: Innumerable
Judith Leiber handbags we want but can't afford: 418

Yes, it was a good day in Las Vegas. We're only partly done.

At Harrahs, we made our way through the casino, which is incredibly loud and confusing, and finally found the monorail station. Again, the turnstiles are easy. Put in ticket, take out ticket, walk through turnstile. If you don't take the ticket, the turnstile yells.

I started to the wrong side of the platform, and Amy pulled me over to the Northbound side, chiding me gently for being a crazy person. "We're going *north*," she said, "*Back* to the Sahara." Ohhhhhhh! OK. That side is for South, this side is for North. I can remember that!

A monorail came in seconds, and along with many other people, we got on. The doors closed, and...

The train started going South.

Immediately, every person in the car with us sat up straight. Those of us who had just gotten on started asking, "Wait! Is this a South-bound train?"

"NO," answered the people who were already in the car before us. "It's supposed to go NORTH!!!!"

Everyone became very excited. Amy turned to me and said, "Bay! What did you *do*???? You broke the monorail!!!!" We were all laughing nervously, but we were, in fact, a bit alarmed. The Las Vegas monorails do not have drivers. They drive themselves. On Friday, the monorails were offline for half an hour because of a computer glitch.

As the monorail went back to the station before Harrah's, the automatic announcement said, "This is the last stop! All passengers must exit the train!"

In the space of a minute, all of us were bonded by the tragedy we were experiencing. We conferred. "Did she just say to get off the train?" "What are we supposed to do?" "Is the monorail broken???" "What's going on????????"

Most of us started getting off the train, because, after all, that is what we were instructed to do.

Then a uniformed monorail guard jumped around on the platform, waving his arms excitedly and telling us, "GET BACK ON THE MONORAIL!!!! GET BACK ON THE MONORAIL!!!!!" Dang, he was jumpy. And very excited. We all turned around and crammed back onto the monorail, practically running. It was a very small mob scene for a few seconds. As we panted and the doors closed again, we all laughed nervously. Which way would the train go now?

Thank goodness, this time the monorail headed North. Whew! That was a close one!

On our way back to the Sahara, Amy and I made a tally of all the things that had broken during my trip -- Airplane. Elevator. Moving Sidewalk. And now.... the Monorail. We even counted up the modes of transportation I hadn't yet broken, and we devised a rough formula for my jinx. I was breaking every other thing I got on. Therefore, before I got in Amy's car, I needed to break one more mode of transportation.

I hoped it wouldn't be the roller coaster. That could be bad.

At the Sahara, we exited safely and went through the casino toward Speed the Ride. As we were walking through, I lit a cigarette, using a match from the Wynn. I casually stuck the extinguished match in an ashtray next to a bank of slot machines, and the guy standing there yelped, "THANK YOU! You did that!!!!" And he pointed to his machine, where three 7's were lined up like soldiers and lights were blinking and flashing merrily. I guess he doesn't believe in random luck? I told him he was welcome.

We went outside and waited to see the rollercoaster before we went in for our ride, and it was an unusually long wait. We opined that maybe I had already broken something else, but just when we were ready to give up, out came the roller coaster. As I watched its trek and listened to the passengers shrieking, I realized, "Oh. Going backwards could be scary. And that vertical part -- that goes REALLY high."

I love rollercoasters. But I'm not so fond of heights. I wondered if I would chicken out of Speed the Ride.

I didn't, though. We paid for our single ride, went upstairs, stashed our stuff (sweater, jacket, purse, camera, life insurance policy, last will & testament, loose change, and a box of Wynn matches) in a locker for 50 cents, and got in line. Within a couple of minutes, the coaster came back, and we piled on. I still briefly considered chickening out. I'm *so glad* I didn't.

Speed the Ride is suh-weet. I mean -- SWEET!!!!!!! What a ride!!!! Going forward is a *great* and very smooth thrill. Going up that vertical part -- well, OK, I closed my eyes and prayed a little bit. You float in the seat and are literally weightless for a second. You can't tell when you stop going forward and start going backward!!!!!! The backward loop is *very* scary, because you can feel that the cars have slowed down, and it feels like there's not enough momentum to make it all the way around the loop. The rest of the ride is fabulous, though, and I was laughing out loud -- heartily -- for most of the trip.

What a *sweet* ride!!!!! If you like rollercoasters, I highly recommend Speed the Ride. (I wouldn't recommend it to my friend Krisi, though, because she doesn't like vertical drops.)

There was so much adrenaline coursing through my veins that I jumped out of my seat and found that I was shaking. My hands shook as I tried to unlock the locker and retrieve our stuff. It was just a *great* ride!!!!!!!

We left the Sahara and crossed two streets so we could pick up a few things at Bonanza. If you're not familiar with Bonanza, it's at the corner of Sahara and Las Vegas Blvd., and it's the biggest (and cheeziest and cheapest!) souvenir shop in Las Vegas. I love that place. They have so much stuff there! But we didn't browze; we found exactly what we were looking for and bought it.

As we were walking toward the parking garage behind the Sahara, Amy commented, "I am wearing my most comfortable tennis shoes, and my feet are starting to complain."

"Really?" I replied, "My feet said 'F*ck you' two hours ago!"

Amy thwacked me for cussing. But my feet *really* hurt by that time.

At the parking garage, we hit the button for the elevator. People came out of the casino and started getting in line. We waited. We waited and waited. People started complaining. They started asking if we had hit the right button. There's only one button when you're on the ground, y'all! People got out of line and started climbing stairs. We were parked on the fourth level, and neither of us was particularly eager to climb four flights on our complaining feet.

Besides, we were overjoyed that the elevator was broken. It meant that Amy's car was safe!

Finally, after many minutes of waiting, the elevator rattled to a stop and the tired doors gasped open as if disappointed that we had waited for it. The ride to the fourth level was scary as we listened to things groaning in the tower around us, but we did, in fact, make it out in one piece.

And Amy's whore-red slutmobile made it home in one piece, too.

Maybe my jinx is satisfied? But wait! There's always Sunday!