There is something about that extra day tacked onto a weekend, injectable testosterone for sale be it a Monday or a Friday, which turns a getaway into a mini vacation. Of course three day weekends are a state of mind. One “three day weekend” trip my boyfriend John and I took to Vegas started on Memorial Day Monday and ended on a Wednesday. We tend to take breaks just before or just after big holidays – you get better rates, better service and a lot fewer crowds.
That trip we skipped our usual easy bargain booking for midweek Luxor (always clean, excellent bathrooms) and made a blind Hotwire bid on a Vegas Strip 5 star hotel and ended up in the mind-boggling Venetian for an unheard of price – under $100 a night including service fees. Lots of California people fly to Vegas, Tahoe or San Francisco, but we seem to end up driving to our breaks, partly because the dog kennel we use is right off the 10 freeway and often on the way, partly because getting on the road means the vacation has already started.
When you add up getting to the airport early, parking, waiting to board, being inspected, then collecting baggage at the other end, you are practically at the same number of travel hours. And on the plane, we don’t get to eat one of John’s patented toasted sandwiches. Somehow, the way he makes the sandwich means I actually eat mayonnaise, a substance I usually detest. Driving against the traffic .
Everyone else was heading back from the weekend away and oh what a stream of headlights we saw crawling along) we were hypnotized by the flashing lights of an outlet mall/casino combo at the border – Stateline, Nevada – and stopped in. Great bargains for men’s wear, not so great for women’s wear – but we didn’t do a thorough search.
On that Vegas trip, we dragged our battered garment bag, with a freshly broken strap, across the lush marble-floored lobby, looking like refugees. We entered our suite-like room – with its canopy bed, step down tv lounge and huge marble bathroom (two sinks, a shower and a huge tub), pulled out the nice champagne we’d brought along in our cooler, pulled out our travel champagne glasses (if they break we don’t care) and put on the plush robes the Venetian provides.
A cable movie and champagne shook the dust off the road trip. The next couple of days in Vegas sometimes means the spa for me, for sure the sports bar for John, and our search for the stranger slot machines to play. The “Ripley’s Believe It Or Not” slots actually reward you for answering trivia questions. Vegas is not really about thinking,
But the times we’ve played the game we’ve gotten a few interested onlookers impressed with our ability to pull facts out of our brains. We toyed with the idea of hanging around the machines having a cocktail and helping other players answer their bonus questions but decided against it. Along the strip, the Barbary Coast has maintained its original kitsch,
