Sunday July 27th, 2008

The phone rings at 7:00 am as our wake up call, and we reluctantly begin to start moving. We’re rather unenthusiastic while cleaning and packing, but we make progress and we’re all but ready to leave. I manage to get in one more relaxing Bellagio shower before breakfast arrives.

It was scheduled to show up at 7:30, and at 7:29 on the dot there’s a knock on the door. The table is wheeled in and the server flops a copy of that morning’s newspaper onto the bed. He continues to setup our breakfast while chatting about the upcoming City Center Circ de Soliel show and the gargantuan project in general.

While I’m signing the room charge I’m scanning over everything on the ticket. I was looking for the automatic gratuity charge, delivery charge, convenience charge or any other type of “charge” they gouge you with. To my dismay I didn’t find anything. I suppose Bellagio has just included those assorted fees into the cost overall. The bill is approximately $30 before tip.

I ordered “Chef Frank’s Wrap” and the boss decided to go with two eggs over medium, a bowl of freshly cut strawberries accompanied by a lemon crème fraiche.

The wrap held a warm mountain of eggs, sausage and cheese. Basically it’s a McDonald’s breakfast burrito on steroids. Throw in a splash of tobacco and I was set. We sat and ate in silence for the most part reliving the previous days’ experiences in our own minds. It was sadly coming to a close.

I checked out through the TV (intentionally skipping the room charge totals) and carried our luggage downstairs to meet our driver from Presidential Limo for our airport transfer. He was already waiting and we hop inside. I snap a few pictures since I figure these will be the last shots of my fourth anniversary Las Vegas trip.

We noticed the air conditioning wasn’t working and when we asked the driver he reset the system. Once it booted back up the button still didn’t respond. The inside of the car wasn’t hot, but some air blowing on us would be appreciated. We came to a red light when he suddenly stepped out of the car, opened our door and tried the controls for himself. He didn’t have any better luck. In any case we were at the airport in short order. We get out, tip him, and we’re on our way to check in.

The lines were fast moving and within 10 minutes both of us had checked our bags. I had the Bellagio front desk print out our boarding passes the day before (at no cost) so we were already in the A boarding group.

Up the escalator we go, and my left hand brushes against my pocket, as I want to scan over the pictures of the trip. It’s not there. I check my other pockets with no luck in finding the damn thing. Visions of my Le Reve tickets sitting on an empty bar table flash through my mind. I asked the boss if she has it, but I already know the answer. I do a thorough check of my carryon again with no luck. DAMN IT!

I check my cell phone and luckily I had a voice mail from our driver advising he was ready to pick us up at Bellagio. I guess I had missed it when he initially called. I frantically dial him and it goes straight to voice mail. I leave frenzied message letting him know I think I left it in the back of his limo. Within five minutes he calls me back saying he did indeed find it, and is picking up another passenger at the moment, but he’s heading back straight to the airport. He tells me his customer is being dropped off at the Continental terminal and I can meet him there. Thank god.

What seemed like an hour (but was more likely 15 minutes) passes, and I see the car. He unloads his passenger (who by the way gave him a $50 tip) and then he turns his attention to me. My camera is given back to me and again I tip him. “Thanks man, you really saved my ass.” He appreciates the additional tip and says “No problem.” with a cocked grin.

At this point it’s a little under an hour until our flight leaves. Security gets a chuckle at my driver’s license but we run into a problem when Ang puts her carryon through the X-ray machine. It’s taken to another table where they advise her of the new rules regarding carrying liquids onto the plane.

She has a can of hairspray, some cans of spray on sunscreen, a little vial of hand soap, etc… They give her the ol’ “if you want to have your bag checked, you can take these with you” speech. The funny thing is she had the exact same stuff in her carry on from Omaha and no one batted an eye. Way to go, Omaha security! Either that, or terrorists leaving Vegas play by different rules than those flying out of Omaha. Maybe the Omaha security team didn’t get the same memo as every other airport in the nation.

In the end she had to toss some things (which she was rather pleased about as you can imagine) and we get to our gate with about 15 minutes to spare. We cut into the already lined up A group and board just in time. The flight home got in early so it was a swift two-hour flight.

And now it’s back to “normal” life. You truly learn how unimportant and insignificant you really are when you return from a Vegas trip. No one’s calling me “sir” or “Mr. X” whenever I turn around. No one’s offering to fill my ice bucket or give me a free drink at 9:00 AM. I have to open my own doors these days too. Damn it.

It was a great trip. Even after all the cash I spent on food, drinks, tips, taxis, feeding the slot machines and miscellaneous incidentals, I still came out ahead. The Bellagio and Planet Hollywood poker rooms contributed to the majority of that, with some Blackjack wins thrown in for good measure.

Until next time Las Vegas………..