My Vegas Scooter

...as promised... more about the scooter!

Here's a friendly tip. When planning a trip to Las Vegas PACK SOME GOOD WALKING SHOES! Oh, how I wish someone would have offered me this little gem of advice. But, no, instead I packed cute shoes that would show off my freshly manicured toes since I was going somewhere nice enough to finally breakout my sandals!

Day One: Jack, Sharla, Rob, and I head out for a look around Sin City. We walked about a half a mile down the strip and back before I noticed that I has a slight twinge of pain in my left foot. Determined not to let it slow me down, I suggested we stop for lunch. This was sure to give my foot amuch needed break so we could be on our way again for the afternoon. After lunch we parted ways with Rob and Sharla and headed just a little bit further down the strip. By the time we reached M&M World, I was gimping around like someone with a serious problem. Jack decided it was time to head back to our room so I could rest my foot. I took a nice, hot, long bath in the gi-normous garden tub we had in our room. A half an hour later I still could not put much pressure on my foot without wanting to cry out in pain. We walked a bit more that evening while I sported Jack's running shoes which are about a size too big. Certainly a night's rest would be good for my ailment.

Day Two: The next morning I could not walk! What the crap?! How was I going to take in all the sights maimed like this? How was I going to stay in my hotel room all day with only 4 channels to watch? (by the way - they really don't want to give you any reason to spend time in your room in Vegas, so they give you crap TV so you'll head back down to the casino). After breakfast we headed (I hobbled) to a shop in the mall where I could buy some IcyHot - that's right, IcyHot. I rubbed it in on my foot, but it didn't help for longer than 3 minutes (but I smelled fantastic!). So it was off to the bell desk to inquire about what kind of assistance I could rent to help me survive the rest of my vacation. They only solutions available were a wheelchair (ABSOLUTELY NOT!) or an electric scooter (SERIOUSLY?!). Jack jumped all over that scooter idea and the bell hop disappeared and drove one around. I was mortified. It was official, I was about to embark on day 2 of my vacation looking like one of those 400 pound people who's knees buckle at the sheer weight they try to support. I cried. Jack laughed.

Rob has muscular dystrophy so I wasn't alone in my plight to tool around Vegas in my granny scooter.

We spent the day banging into each other, racing, and laughing! I even felt bad for Jack and Sharla having to walk all that way and open doors for us and stuff!

Just a couple of fact about Las Vegas:

1. They apparently do not have an open container law.
2. You can buy Margaritas by the yard in a bong container.
3. They do not frown on drinking while driving a scooter down the sidewalk.
4. Drinking at 10:00am is socially acceptable.
5. People are very understanding if you ACCIDENTALLY run into them while you're on a scooter (even if you've been drinking).
6. Anyone can rent a scooter for $40!

Funniest part of our entire trip (just ask Sharla, I think she nearly peed her pants)...

It is not easy (or recommended) to maneuver a 3-point turn in an elevator on a scooter after a drink at 10:00 in the morning without giving yourself whiplash at least twice!

I'm not really sure what happened, but I remember hitting the wall and then backing up and taking another run at it full speed and hitting so hard I nearly flipped over the handle bars. I haven't seen my chiropractor yet because I'm simply not sure how I'm going to explain it to him.

I'm Obsessed with Ebay

Las Vegas has changed me. I’m not talking about the Margaritas at 10:00am, the hooker trading cards laying all over the ground, the young girls dancing on tables in next-to nothing.

Oh, no, there is an Ebay slot machine that haunts my dreams and every waking thought. Here’s how I met my new obsession…

Before I left on my Vegas vacation, my mother left me an envelope with the words, “Have fun and play one for me and Mom.” My grandmother, who passed away last November, was an avid slot machine addict. She made weekly (if not daily) trips to the boat to get her fix. My mother, who at first I believe was just humoring her mother, was bitten by the gambling bug. Both of these women had been blessed by the innate ability to win. My mother gave me the instructions she assured me would help my odds of winning while in Sin City.

On our first day out I sat down at a machine I had seen my own mother sit at while on a trip to the boat. This decision proved to be a wise one. I successfully won ¾ the amount I had to play. I proudly strutted up to my husband and handed him my winnings. Pleased with myself I disappeared back into the casino with my initial bet still in my hand. The casino gods were not as kind to me on my second outing. Still ahead of the game, I decided to leave it alone for the day.

On our second day I wandered around the casino a bit dropping a few dollars here and there into several machines. I then pulled my husband over to a machine hooked up to a gigantic Wheel of Fortune wheel. We sat down on the seat made for two and I tried to explain to him the finer points of playing a slot machine (as my mother had instructed). I told him to channel grandma (as this was her favorite game show) and pushed the button. With that one push we got the bonus spin and the gigantic wheel started to spin. It stopped and we realized we had one $200. We cashed out and walked away happy as two peas in a pod.

We spent the greater part of our Vegas vacation NOT gambling away our spoils. On Saturday, we were trying to stay in our resort because my foot was throbbing and I had to return my scooter (that’s for another post), so we hung out at the casino all afternoon. We played a little here and there but didn’t have any more real luck. With 20 cents left on a ticket we decided that we had played for mom and won, we had played for grandma and won, perhaps we should take our last 20 cents and play for Jesus. I had spotted a few Noah’s Ark machines and was certain that God wanted us to make it big so we could do His work. That was NOT the case. Apparently God really does not like it when you gamble. Or perhaps he was angry that I only gave him 20 cents, but that is neither here nor there.

We had decided to meet our friends at 4:00 to head to the airport. We had been assured that we should plan to arrive at McCarran airport at least 2 hours before our flight to make it through security. We had 10 minutes left and I begged my hubby to accompany me over to this huge Ebay monitor up on a wall above a few machines. These machines were amazing. They were tied together in a manner that when one person won bonus spins (the only true way to win at these machines) all five machines got to partake in the bonus spin. I stood there in awe of a woman who was dominating this game. I felt like I was in a drunken stupor as I watched. I NEEDED to play this game. As Jack and I pulled the last remaining bills out of our pockets a couple swooped in and sat in the last two spots at my beloved machine. I stood there in shock, hoping, praying that one of them would run out of money and get up. Time was running out. We had to get going. We had to meet our friends. But I just couldn’t walk away from this gold mine. Jack assured me I could. And wouldn’t you know it, we did.

We arrived at McCarran airport 2 ½ hours early only to find out that our flight was going to be 40 minutes late. NOOOOOO! The taxi ride had only cost us $11.50. Perhaps I could make it back to the casino to play the Ebay machine and be back in time. If I didn’t win any money I wouldn’t have enough to get back to the airport, but that certainly was NOT going to be the case. How could I NOT win? As I sat in the airport trying to keep my mind off this insane desire to bust back through security, I couldn’t help but pray that they had overbooked our flight. I would TOTALLY take a bump. There’s no way Jack could turn down the offer they were making for the San Diego flight ($200 cash and round trip tickets). We could go back to the casino, see the Miss USA dress rehearsal, and I could make sweet love to the Ebay machine. It had to be! But alas, it wasn’t. I boarded the plane with a pit in my stomach. I have been able to think about little else. Monday morning I woke up and my first thought was the Ebay machine. Oh, how I longed to be sitting in front of it.


As the days go by, it gets easier to be apart. I also rest easy in knowing that there are two of these Ebay beauties in Council Bluffs a mere 2 hours from where we live. It’s amazing what you kind find on the internet. Now I just have to find an excuse to go there and play!

I Understand If You Can't Be My Friend After This...

I received a phone call from my bff, Wyn, this morning.

No light-hearted foreplay, just cut right to the chase.

(Wyn) "I have to tell you something. I've been trying to tell you for a while now, but I haven't been able to find the words. You're gonna be really mad."

(Me) "Okay...?"

(Wyn) "I understand if you can't be my friend after I tell you this, but I'm really sorry. This is really hard."

(Me) "Oh my gosh, just say it. It will be okay."

(Wyn) "I think I'm in love with...

(big dramatic pause)

your rotary cutter and mat."

What a dork! I lent her these crafty tools a few weeks back and had totally forgot about them. I only use them once every six months (Dutch costumes in May and Halloween costumes in October). Seriously?! I nearly had a heart attack.

(Wyn) "It's just the other day I was using it and proclaiming my love to it and it returned my love."

In a total subject change we found ourselves reminiscing about the dear beloved Honda Accords we both drove in a previous life.

By the end of the conversation we were daydreaming about Wyn cruising around in a early 90's Honda Accord EX with my rotary cutter and mat in the passenger seat. The sunroof is open and REO Speedwagon is heard blaring from the radio. "I just can't fight this feeling anymore. I forgotten what I started fighting for."

I love Wyn. I hope she never changes!