Leaving Las Vegas

Almost. I'm almost leaving Las Vegas. And honestly, it can't come soon enough.

This is so not my town. I really hate crowds, and noise, and gambling, and scum bags. And this town, well the strip anyway, is full of all of the above. And for a town so dependent on the service industry to keep it afloat -- people are rude.

I'm pretty confident that if I came into a lot of money, and was whisked straight from my private jet, to a limo, to a sweet suite, to pool-side cabana, to the latest, hottest restaurant, to first-row seats at the latest, hottest show, I'd do okay; but short of that, well, I don't think I'll ever like it.

It's so smoky, and scuzzy, and soulless.

Before this trip I optimistically looked up all the low-cost, fun things to do in this town with kids. I made a list, printed it out. I was excited that the pool at our hotel was large, and kid-friendly -- boasting a fun waterslide. Even though I still find my daughters' dance competitions less than fun, I was looking at this trip as a vacation.

Not exactly the word I’d use at this point.

The Flamingo? It’s a dump. The great pool? Since last year’s competition, they’ve flipped the adult and kid pools, so now the kids are confined to the small pool and water slide area, and the large, main pool, with waterfall and little islands, is for adults only. You should have seen all the kids in the pool. It was like girl soup. And the water? Suspiciously warm. Of course, it was 107 when I last went in. But still.

And the pool hours? They close it down at 6 pm. Can you even believe that shit? The sun is still beating down, although it has perhaps cooled off to 95 degrees, the kids are in mid-slide, people are just getting their happy hour buzz going, but they shut it up and lock it down promptly at 6. Only in Vegas, right? (Get into those casinos, now, wouldja?!)

And walking on the strip with kids? Well that’s an education, let me assure you. The girls were amazed at the amount of naked-lady photos they saw on the street, and after a block or two, we all found it funny how the naked-lady leaflet hander-outers would quickly snatch their hands in when they saw us. We likened them to little turtles, yanking in their pitiful heads upon our visage. Thank Shiva for small favors, I guess. Likely it was in an effort to save their marketing swag, not to shield my babies, but it worked both ways.

It also didn’t take long for the girls to comment, “Hey mom, everybody’s drinking beer on the streets!”

Yes, girls, yes they are. And using such colorful language too.

It’s a sewer out there. Vegas is definitely not for kids, do not let the tourist brochures sway you -- they’re complete shit.

There were high points, don’t get me wrong. We did somehow end up in the VIP check-in lounge, avoiding one hideously long line, I did enjoy one boozy afternoon at the pool with some other parents, and was even able to sneak away to the adult pool for 10 minutes. The girls enjoyed their dancing, we had some good meals, but I’m ready to go.

I can’t wait to drag my cracked, chapped lips and dried-out nostrils out of this desert and back to San Diego.

See you on the other side…