We’re in Vegas!

Well, we’re here!

I sat next to a really (and somewhat stinky) guy on the plane yesterday.  He told me that he had taken a Tylenol P.M.  He slept the whole way across the country (I was jealous!).

His big fat arm rested on our shared armrest for six hours.  It was hard for me to change the channels on my little t.v.

When he finally woke up he asked me if he had been snoring.

“No,” I said, “but you were very cozy to lean on.”

It’s true.  As I tried to snooze a little during the trip I fantasized about what it would be like to rest against his big fat body.  It was like a nice comforter and a bunch of pillows all built into one.

Okay… you want to know if I’m winning, right?

Well, the answer is:

No!

I’m still losing.  My sixteen year losing streak continues.

I fell asleep at 8:10 last night.  Couldn’t keep my eyes open.  Today I was up at 4:15.  Down at the casino by 5:30 a.m.  There were so many drunk people down there.  As I sat at my favorite (losing) slot machine, sipping coffee through a straw, I watched last night’s debauchery continue.  I felt so healthy in my workout clothes and sneakers, happy not to be one of those people who was still dressed up and drunk from last night.

My dad is gorgeous as ever and his girlfriend is looking pretty good too.  They walk through the casino arm in arm, her big black handbag slung over my dad’s other arm.  So cute.  I wonder if people think she has a daddy complex? Well, whatever it is, they are happy, and whatever makes my dad happy makes me happy too.

Going to the gym now.  It’s a lot cheaper than the casino.

Oh, by the way, I lost at Pai Gow Poker too.  Why should the slots be the only place to take my money? Do you know what Pai Gow means? I’ll tell you.  It means “s&*$”.  I won’t curse on my blog (never have), but that’s a direct quote from my mom.  And that’s what the dealers keep giving me, every time I hopefully unfold my seven cards.

It’s very windy here… and cold! Go figure.  The high today is going to be 68, with winds reaching 50 miles per hour.  Oy.

 

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About mallorylayne

midlife mom seeking meaning for the rest of her life.
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