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Chapter Two: Don’t You Step On My Blue Suede Shoes

All Bets Are Off: Mai Tai Tom’s 66 Hours In Las Vegas

Chapter Two: Don’t You Step On My Blue Suede Shoes

Day Two: Hey It’s Worked For the Last 24 Years, Don’t Be Like Your Parents, Standing In The Idiot Line, There’s A Pool In Our Bathroom, $15 for Pringles!, Don’t Step On My Blue Suede Shoes, Going To The Chapel, The Wedding Singer, Hitched, A Mai Tai (or two) For Mai Tai, You Can’t Beat Bobby Flay, The Fabulous Forum, Family And Family-Style, Short Cut and Martha Would Be Ashamed

Time to switch hotels to where the rest of the wedding party were staying, Paris Las Vegas. It was just a short drive from the Tuscany Suites to Paris. Then the fun started.

I guess it had been awhile since I stayed at a Vegas Strip hotel, because my first mistake was pulling into the circular driveway expecting to unload the luggage and check-in. Not so fast. The Tuscany Suites this was not.

First of all, I believe the entire city of Paris was less crowded than the arrival area at the hotel. People with their luggage were running around dazed and confused (and they were still sober) and no one seemed to know where to check-in or where to park the car. When finally I found a bellman to inquire about checking in, he replied “I can take your bags, but they will not be delivered to your room until sometime between 4pm – 7pm.” Considering the wedding was at 2:30, that was not the answer I wanted to hear. Seeing the concern on my face, he added tersely, “Hey, it’s worked this way for the past 24 years.” Helpful, he was not. The hotel had looked so lovely the night before.

EuroTom (my more calm traveling persona) was being severely tested. I abandoned Tracy and the bags in front of the hotel, and drove to the self-parking area. A rather long walk back to the front of the hotel and we were reacquainted. I went inside to see if there were any rooms available for early check-in. The answer was yes, however they didn’t have the same type room we had reserved so we’d have to pay $150 more per night, on top of the $50 early check-in charge and, of course, the $1 million resort fee.

Languishing in the casino trying to decide our course of action, we ran into my niece Kari and her soon-to-be husband Paul, along with my nephew Kevin, who had arrived late the previous evening due to a Colorado Springs snow event. After explaining our dilemma, Kevin graciously offered to let us use his room to change for the wedding.

Up in his room, Tracy asked for the parking ticket so I wouldn’t lose it before heading out to the wedding. Fumbling through my pockets like a clown on steroids, I quickly became the person on the Progressive commercial who has turned into his parents. “This could be a problem,” I said. I seemed to have lost it, in more ways than one. “I’ll go back down to the desk and ask what I should do.”

The check-in line now stretched from here to Henderson, and after finding a woman who looked official (she had a badge, anyway) I told her I had lost my parking ticket. “No problem,” she replied, “You won’t need it because you can use your room key.” One problem, we didn’t have a room.

After explaining that we needed to change for a wedding, she graciously escorted me to the shorter “line of shame,” where idiots who have messed up get to go. She helpfully added, “Tell them you have a wedding to attend.”

I pled our plight, and, voila (well, we were in Paris), we had a room. I did not have to pay the upgrade, but I did have to pay the $50 early check-in fee, which I was happy to do.

Happy as two people who had just won at blackjack, we entered our room. “This isn’t good,” Tracy said peering into the bathroom. Sure enough, the bathroom floor was full of water from a leaking toilet. We called maintenance, and learned they’d have someone up “in a few minutes.”

It was a lot longer than “a few minutes,” so while we waited we explored the snack mini bar on the desk in the room. I picked up a can of Pringles, looked at the price, and said, “Can you believe this? A can of Pringles is $15!” Easily distracted from our boredom, Tracy picked up a small bottle of vodka. “Wow, this is $48.” Tracy picked up a couple of other items, and we laughed at how much they cost until we read the sign adjacent to the snacks. It basically said, “If you pick it up, you own it.” We had spent 15 minutes in a hotel room and already lost more than $100. Talk about Heartbreak Hotel.

Finally, our bathroom was repaired so we could get dressed. I wiggled my hips and said to Tracy, “Don’t Be Cruel or Step on my Blue Suede Shoes,” which I had purchased especially for the wedding. “Welcome To My World,” she muttered to no one there.

Since we’d had nothing to eat, we went downstairs and had what passed for a crepe. It was time to go to the wedding.

     

Attempting to exit the hotel parking lot, we learned that the room key did not work to open the gate. Pushing the help button (coincidentally lots of buttons had been pushed already), a voice came over the intercom and said something none of us understood, but the gate magically opened. (When I mentioned this to the desk person at check-out, she laughed and said, “That happens to me every day, and I’ve worked here for 18 years.”)

Pulling up to the Little Vegas Chapel, we knew we were in for a unique experience. Standing out front was “Elvis” chatting with a friend. Knowing he had a wedding to perform, there was probably, A Little Less Conversation than usual.

Shortly thereafter …

… and Elvis arrived to perform the ceremony. I had high hopes this would be a fun experience, and it exceeded expectations. His spiel was replete with funny one-liners like, hoping there wouldn’t be any Suspicious Minds and that their Burning Love would last. He had my niece promise to never let him treat her like a Hound Dog. Personally, I was All Shook Up.

Elvis (he was Elvis to me by now) sang three songs during the ceremony, sounding pretty damned good. It ended with Kari and Paul dancing to an inspired version of Viva Las Vegas. You can get married like Paul and Kari, or renew your vows. I have started a campaign with Tracy to celebrate our upcoming 30th anniversary. As far as Elvis, all we could say was, “Thank you very much!”

                                                      

Hapless Ones …

and Happily Married Ones!

             

Our newlyweds stepped outside for a photo op, and then were driven around Vegas for wedding photos at some iconic Vegas venues such as the Neon Museum. We would visit there the next day, so I guess this was a sign of things to come. Later, we’d meet up with them, along with Paul’s daughter, brother and sister-in-law, later for a celebratory dinner.

So what do three thirsty wedding guests do in the interim? Kevin, Tracy and I decided to hit one of the city’s well-known dive bars, Frankie’s Tiki Room. This is the only 24/7 tiki bar in Las Vegas. Only the best for us!

       

After being carded in order to enter (true story), suddenly I felt like a pack-a-day smoker as we wandered through the cigarette smoke looking for a place to sit. The interior, in true dive bar tradition, is dark with kitschy tiki decor.

                                         

Of course, we had to order a Mai Tai (at the bar). Watching the bartender free pour this masterpiece, I wondered if we’d still be upright by dinner. Being the favorite uncle I am, I picked up the first round, leaving nephew Kevin to ask if he could order the second round.

               

Knowing the debauchery twins could not say no, Tracy took one for the team and only sipped a small portion of her Mai Tai as she was now the designated driver by default. (Although open 24/7, Frankie’s serves no food, so a ride share seems prudent). The music selection of surf meets rock meets standards from the jukebox was atmospherically perfect. Viva Frankie’s!

                    

The artwork was pretty cool, too.

 

Needing something to soak up those Mai Tais, we stopped at Bobby Flay’s Bobby Burgers back at Paris Las Vegas for some overpriced water and fries.

                                                     

No rest for the weary. In less than an hour it was time to walk to dinner. Although as the crow flies, Paris Las Vegas and Caesar’s Palace are a short distance, when it comes to walking, it’s a different story. Nothing in Vegas is close. As we exited our hotel …

we looked across the street where we could see the TV networks setting up their Super Bowl coverage in front of the Bellagio fountains for the game that would happen the following week.

           

Caesar’s Palace awaited.

We glanced over to Bugsy’s Flamingo where we’d spend 30 quality minutes the following day.

It’s hard to believe that Caesar’s Palace has been here for nearly 60 years (opened in 1966). Maybe it’s all the March Madness events I’ve attended here, but I still love the old place.

                 

The Year Of The Dragon lives here.

Sadly, since we postponed our upcoming trip to Rome until 2025, this was as close as we’d get to Rome in 2024.

  

On an evening in Roma. Where’s Dean when you need him?

                                     

I still get a kick Roman through the Forum Shops.

Kari and Paul had reserved a celebration dinner at Carmine’s (one never tires of Italian food).

     

It was served family style, which was perfect for our new extended family. The food was great, and chatting with our waiter who had attended the University of Wyoming made for some good Mountain West sports smack with me (a true red & black Aztec), and Paul’s brother, who attended the evil Boise State University. I hope this doesn’t impact the family relations.

                                    

For dessert, Kari and Paul served a cake that had been made especially for them. I stopped at 2 1/2 servings as to not embarrass myself further.

Fortunately, Paul is a much more experienced Vegas goer, and he knew a shortcut back to Paris Las Vegas through Harrahs (I wondered if our Uber driver from last night was still waiting for us) The group decided to have a nightcap at Martha Stewart’s Paris Las Vegas restaurant, The Bedford.

The hostess was less than affable or helpful and would not sit us at one of the plethora of empty tables, but luckily there happened to be eight spots at the bar and a very friendly bartender. It ended a very happy day, and the honeymooners adjourned to get ready for their week-long ski trip.

Tomorrow would be a busy day. We’d start off with a breakfast that included a titanic cinnamon waffle before heading to the Luxor to see artifacts and exhibits from the real Titanic. Then Kevin, Tracy and I would walk to the Flamingo Hotel to check out a monument to a man who not only was integral in the development of the Sunset strip, but also one of the leaders of Murder Inc., Bugsy Siegel.

After a snack back at our hotel in Flavortown, the three of us would make a late afternoon, early evening stop at the very cool Neon Museum. We’d stay in Paris for one last fantastic Vegas dinner at Mon Ami Gabi.

Next: Chapter Three: Sunken Treasures To Neon Pleasures

Day Three: We’re Off The Hook, On A Roll, Somber Reminders, Don’t Lick The Iceberg, A Hull Of An Artifact, Where’s Bugsy?, What A Guy, Stardust Memories, Between A Hard Rock & A Fun Place, Tres Merveilleux & No Gambling

Chapter Four: Leaving Las Vegas

Day Four: You Mean There’s More Than One Magic Mountain? & Let It Snow Let It Snow Let It Snow!

The post Chapter Two: Don’t You Step On My Blue Suede Shoes appeared first on The Global Adventures of MaiTai Tom and Tracy.



This post first appeared on Travels With Mai Tai Tom, please read the originial post: here

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