I was a bit famished, so we headed up to the all night diner angle at the hotel and got a steak and egg breakfast for like 6.99. Not too bad really, but I remember the old Vegas with the 99 cent shrimp cocktails and the buffets for three dollars that stretched like roman feasts. But no more. It’s a “kid friendly” Vegas, of all things, so those days seem to be gone and dead. Now it’s the days of luau’s for 39.95 with a cheesy stage and pork shipped in precut. It’s definitely not the make a deal Vegas of old, but yet at night, when the moon is full (or crescent, or gone, or whatever) it’s still got that Vegas feeling that will never die. That adage that everyone knows, “what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas” though I think if the tests from the clinic come back bad for you, whatever happened in Vegas followed you home.
I wanted to push the midnight oil lighting and burning, but we were both tired and the poor bruthah was going to have to drive the next day, so we hit the sack, foot sore and heart happy, but heavy as well for on the morrow we were back to our normal lives.
The next day was wakey wakey, but late enough to miss the shineys. They were heading back to the northern post they man (and woman respectively of course.) and so they were gone from Vegasness early. The bruthah and I headed down to say goodbye to the hotel and all her minions, after we packed the car, and for breakfast I had, for the Vegas goodbye tribute of course, two rum and cokes. When they say breakfast of champions, they mean a stiff rum and coke, or two. We penny slotted it and hung out for a bit, then moved out and down the road. We knew the day was still okay when Coast to Coast came back on, in the same spot, on ghost to ghost night. Gotta love that technology I tell ya. On the way out we hit a BK and got the cheapest meal we had had for at least three days if not more.
