And, naturally, (as young people's minds turn to love in the spring), my mind turned to blogging.
Also, I am terrible at using similies late at night. You may have noticed.
Anyway--I just wanted to report something I never knew: you cannot walk 10 feet in the Vegas airport without bumping into a slot machine. Seriously. You walk off the airplane, into the gate area, and whammo! Lights! Sounds! The scent of money running furiously into the pockets of casino owners! (It smells like fruitcake, liberally laced with doggy doo, in case you were wondering.)
Also, I saw a disposal container for used needles in the women's bathroom.
Ah, Las Vegas. How unique you are. It almost makes me feel affectionate about it.
Almost.
I'll add a picture (of the slot machines, of course) to the post when I get home tomorrow.
Edit: Here ya go!
Until then, happy...whatever. Happy living. And here's hoping I have a happy and sleep-filled flight.
2 comments:
I hated saying "goodbye" to you as you walked away from the car to go in to the terminal in SLC yesterday evening. I know that I will see you again in just a couple of weeks in Boston, but it is just still DANG hard for me to have you leave again.
You really are everyone's favorite, you know.
Glad to know you could gamble AND shoot yourself up whilest bored in the Vegas airport. :)
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