Three Days

July 4, 2012

This year's Independence Day was the fifth and final holiday that we would be missing out here (St. Patrick's Day, Easter, Cinco de Mayo, Memorial Day, and the Fourth), so unfortunately our day was not filled with parades and cookouts and the Lawncrest Flea Market.

Advice from locals read as follows: Stay away from the Strip at all costs. That makes sense. Really, that's good advice for any day during the summer; the Strip gets crowded as hell, and the sun beats down on you with its iron-hot rays, and everyone smells of BO.

So we did the American thing, and went to a baseball game.

The Las Vegas 51s have treated us pretty well while we were out here. There were dollar beers that first game, then we got our free beer steins. On the Fourth, Cashman Field featured a pretty spectacular fireworks show, which was nice getting to see on this holiday.

But first, there was the "carnival," the admission free with your 51s ticket. It was a disappointment. There was: Food! (sno-cones?) Games! (throw this softball into that crate over there?) Giveaways! (buy your chance to get a baseball signed by the 51s, one ticket for $6?) We got there two hours before game time, thinking there'd be at least something for us young adults to do (I dunno, beer and pizza?), but neither of us wanted that Jar-Jar look-alike painted on our face, so we drove over to our favorite casino restaurant, the 777 Brewery, for some actual food and drink.

The game itself was just dandy. Oh, did I mention it rained that day? Yes, there have been two rain storms thus far in our time in the Las Vegas desert, and they occurred on St. Patty's Day and the Fourth of July. But thankfully, the rain stopped in time for America's Great Pastime. The 51s finally won a game.

We even got to see Jamie Moyer, but not in action, and not up close. Of course, he ended up pitching for two away games, and now, during our final week here, the team is off for Minor League All-Star Week. It would've been nice seeing the legendary 49 year old pitch one last time. He's the man.

The fireworks display was incredible. Besides that one time the Lawncrest fireworks all blew up on the ground, it was probably the most intense fireworks show I've ever seen (it had nothing on the show that happened in San Diego this year, though).

It was no Philadelphia Fourth of July, and we missed home and all the holiday traditions, but we made the best of our day, and it worked out pretty darn well.

July 7, 2012

On my last day of work, July 3rd, I got a few handshakes, a few well-wishes, and a promise that I'd be mailed my last paycheck. They have a really high turn-around, so I didn't expect much more - it's not like I made a big impact on that place. Pam, on the other hand, has really made a name for herself in the Recovery Room, and I'm sure her coworkers are going to miss her intensely. So much so, that everyone got together on a Saturday night for a Farewell Night Out for Pam. Good folk, those nurses.

The night started at Diablo's, where we devoured some tacos and margaritas and let's not talk about the check. The next stop on our tour was simply called The Pub, and it was located in the same casino (Monte Carlo). I was told I could wear shorts, which was a good sign. When we approached the bar, the marquee claimed that Miller Lites were two dollars all night, which was literally a good sign.

Unfortunately, the UFC had to go and ruin everything. The Pub rented the "big" fight on PPV, so the dueling pianos were canceled, and the doors were closed, as they were at capacity because of the UFC event. I'm not quite sure what the big draw is of this sport, especially as it seems so much more prevalent in Vegas. Pam and I talked about it the other night. We think it's because there's a vacuum of professional sports in Vegas, especially those that are watched on a national scale (sorry, 51s), so UFC fills that void for those people. It also doesn't hurt that a lot of the fights take place at the MGM Grand Hotel, so there's certain homegrown stakes involved in the fight. But, whatever.

We eventually ended up at the PBR Bar. PBR actually stands for "Professional Bull Riders," but it also stands for "Pabst Blue Ribbon" in spirit, so I like that place. Our group grew a little bit, some people got drunk enough to ride the mechanical bull (neither Pam nor I), and lots of Goodbyes and We'll Miss Yous were exchanged.

The night ended relatively early for most of our group. For nights in Las Vegas, "early" means around 1:30, probably. But our time here is short, and carpe diem and all that, so the four of us left extended the night the only way we could - karaoke.

Ellis Island has some awesome karaoke, and popular too. Three of us put our names in for a song and were told it would be about 90 minutes before our turn came around. In the meantime, we enjoyed some mean IPA while singers got up and sang with varying degrees of actual singing ability. My favorite was a guy who got up, not once, but twice, and graced us with just the best pterodactyl singing. Think heavy metal cookie monster screaming, but higher pitched. Or just think if this guy fronted a heavy metal band. Strangely, Pam knew one of the songs he sang (claiming I was "too young to remember it"). It was about as pleasurable as nails on a chalkboard.

And then at 3 a.m., Pam treated the bar to the sexiest version of "These Boots Are Made For Walkin'" I've ever heard. I tried to take a video, but my camera melted.

This night ended of course how every Great Vegas Night should end: with a trip to Terrible's. Scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns, and toast, for a cool $3.99. I'm gonna miss you, Terrible's.

Anyway, it was another great night. Good friends, good food, good drinks, good songs, good times.

July 11, 2012

We've sampled just about all the cheap food you could possibly ask for in this town. We've eaten dollar gourmet tacos at Yayo. We've annihilated many boxes of Raising Cane's chicken fingers. We've bought every pizza deal to every be slipped under our door. We've sweated through $9 All-You-Can-Eat-And-Drink Champagne Brunches at Terrible's. I guess the point is that we are budget-conscious, and made the most of that, but it was time to really go all out and drop some serious dough on a fancy dinner experience.

The Top of the World Restaurant at the Stratosphere provided just that. We cleaned up and dressed up and clinked our wine glasses and didn't care about price. Well, okay, we didn't go crazy, but still, compared to Jack in the Box, it was a seriously fancy meal. Everything about it just spoke of class. The food was exquisite. The service, impeccable. What sold us, though, was that view from the restaurant.

Top of the World means 108 stories up, and a full 360 degree view. The best part about it was that the whole restaurant slowly rotates, so every 80 minutes you get a complete view of Vegas. The view above is facing northeast, just around the time they were serving the bread and butter. By the time our entrees were served, we were looking south:

Look closely, in that small yellow oval I put on the picture. You can literally see our home from here. (We can tell because of the soft pink light right above it. That's the Terrible's sign that we see right outside our window every night).

The waiter also warned us that there was a chance we might see a bungee jumper out our window, and to not be alarmed. Unfortunately, no bungee jumpers made the plunge while we enjoyed our salmon and chicken and broccoli.

This was an amazing experience. It really tugged at the heartstrings. This is our town. We got to overlook the entire thing during dinner. It was a reflective experience, looking down and seeing the place we called home for the past five months. It was a place that, ultimately, we'll be sad to leave. But we're genuinely glad we got to live here for the short time that we did. It's just so freaking beautiful, isn't it?