After we got our fill of caffeine, we headed down to The Coffee Shop for a late breakfast. We eventually left the hotel sometime after 3:00 p.m. and decide to go over to the Venetian hotel and see what’s there.
As we were walking down the sidewalk, there was a family ahead of us with a young girl [probably five years old] who was skipping along. As we tried to pass them, the little girl took hold of her father’s hand then reached out to me with her other hand [she obviously wasn’t looking]. Because I am around young children most of the time, it didn’t faze me at all to just take hold of her hand. Her dad started laughing [as did Dawna and the rest of the family] while we strode a few more steps down the side walk hand in hand before the girl looked up and realized that I wasn’t her mother [or anyone she knew]. She snatched her hand away and stood there in shock for a few seconds before she looked around and saw that her family was all still there laughing and smiling. Then she started laughing too.
[Dawna and I had encountered a young man, possibly three years old, the night before when we had stopped to get something to eat. As he marched past our table, he stopped and turned to us and said “Evening, ladies.” Then he turned and continued on his way.]
We found a store called The Stupid Factory in the Venetian and spent quite a bit of time in there. I take a few pictures of the painted ceilings in the entrance of the hotel. The pictures really don’t do justice to the scale of just how enormous these paintings are.
Dawna and I find some statues of the Blue Man Group and figure we simply have to take some pictures. See, Dawna’s husband, Alan, absolutely hates the Blue Man Group. He says that if he ever met them in person, they’d have to change the name to Black and Blue Man Group. I personally don’t share his irritation with this group. I understand it, though, as my husband has told me in the past that “listening to Perry Como’s music makes me angry.”
Dawna and I spend quite a bit of time browsing through all the various shops at the Venetian. We stop and watch some performers sing some operatic songs.
After the Venetian, we go back to TI to get something to eat. We sign up for our player’s cards in the casino. We find a stall by the Kahuna Lounge for temporary tattoos and Dawna considers getting her husband’s name done. We approach the stall and see a woman in loud flower print clam diggers, frilly ankle socks in sandals, chatting loudly on a pink fuzzy cell phone. She whispers very loudly to whomever was on the other end that she’s “gotta go, gotta go, there’s someone here.” After she hangs up, she turns to us and says “that was my lover; not my boyfriend.”
Neither Dawna nor I knew exactly how to respond to that revelation, but the woman then started laughing heartily and we just laughed as well. She spent a long time going through her file folders trying to find the lettering for Dawna’s husband’s name. She managed to find an A and an L, but no luck with the N. We told her to go ahead and deal with the other people that had started to line up for tattoos and that we might come back later.
We take a cab downtown to take in the Fremont Experience.
We sign up for some player’s cards in the Four Queens and the Golden Nugget. We wander up and down Fremont and smile at the Elvis impersonator and the show girls that are there having pictures taken with tourists. We go into a small New Orleans style casino and are given some free beads. This is the first casino that we played slots in that we were actually approached by servers and asked if we wanted a drink.
We checked out the various vendors’ stalls along the street. I have a conversation with Dawna about how many people have made comments about my arm tattoo since we arrived. I wondered if women in Vegas simply didn’t have tattoos. I had more comments in less than 24 hours in Vegas than I have in all the time I’ve lived with the tattoo in Vancouver. Dawna said she was surprised that no one had commented on my chest. Well, about 15 minutes later, a local approaches us on the street, takes one look at me, looks at my arm, then my chest and exclaims “nice tits.” I look over at Dawna and say “there it is.” We both laughed.
We spent a few hours down there before heading back to TI and crawling into bed at around 3:00 a.m. Just how do people get any sleep in a city that never sleeps?
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