Las Vegas is for bachelor parties. Las Vegas is for ribaldry. Las Vegas is for sitting in you-sized high heels.
Las Vegas is not for people who spend half an hour trying to figure out if there is an architectural tour of Las Vegas and then watching CNN to find out what the hell is going on in Libya.
Or why, despite the housing bubble, people are still flocking to Las Vegas.
Or whether the people hanging out the stripper business cards actually make any money from it since no one ever takes them?
Mr. B and I had so many questions about Las Vegas.
Unfortunately, we had no answers. So after a while, we kind of stopped asking and thinking and started eating.
We ate everything in Vegas. And it was all so delicious.
Tabbouleh, chicken chow mein, crepes (thanks to Rima for the suggestion!), Riesling, sushi, pancakes, pineapple, gelato, Western tea, Chinese tea, kimchee, sweet potato fries, olives, chicken fingers. And that was just me.
We also saw Ka, by Cirque du Soleil, and it was worth every penny of the $300 that we spent. Not that I am counting and sweating about it in my sleep. Basically, if you’ve never seen Cirque du Soleil productions, it’s what I imagine partaking in hallucinogens to be like. Or if you drink one ‘tussin too many.
What was not good was our hotel, which was the Aria. If you go, do not stay there. The service is horrible. Really.
Unfortunately, in the end, Vegas wasn’t really our bag of tea. But it’s ok, because it’s all about the experience. Also, we came back relaxed. Just in time to deal with our third move of the year.
But, I am already antsy for our next trip, which will hopefully take us off the continent and into a place that has a psychological condition named after it. Because what I need after three days of non-stop eating and manufactured hedonism is definitely a psychological adjustment, and it rhymes with monotony.