If we don’t personally know someone who was killed, injured, or wounded, we know someone who knows someone. Yours truly included.
My loved ones were concerned that just maybe I had attended a country-western concert on the Strip at 10 pm on a Sunday night.
Well. Now that I have your attention...
People get off and on the bus at the various stops from the Strip to Downtown, and any number of them are worthy of a Night Court episode.
Personally, I have a hard time with Cabernet Sauvignon and Malbec because they are real bruisers. Unless, of course, there's a candlelit, air-conditioned romantic dinner involved...
The first seminar I attended was all about Pinot Noir. There were ten for us to taste and it was hosted by two Master Sommeliers and the winemakers. Was I in heaven or what.
And then for some reason, tiny insects decided that they just had to commit suicide on my freshly painted doors. Besides tweezing their little carcasses from the paint, there was even more razoring, sanding and repainting!
“We come here to go to shows, spend money at the restaurants, spend a lot on rooms and at the tables, and tip well. This feels like extortion.” They “used” to like coming to Vegas.
The only bad thing – if you want to call it bad – is that I still haven’t quite accepted the fact that I’m not the aspiring HGTV star that I think I am.
We – the locals – were spared having to pay the fees until December 29, when, according to the thought processes of the MGM Illuminati, locals would pay, too, therefore increasing their revenues by – get this! – millions. Hahahaha! Delusional!