[A face-to-face meeting of about 25 users from Yahoo Chat, Society and
Culture, Thirties; the "30's Regulars".]
Wed 5 November 1997 -- Landing in L.V.
I boarded my cat Thomas at the Kennel and drove with my single carry-on bag, stuffed to capacity, to Washington Dulles International Airport. I parked the truck and rode the bus to the terminal, then went through security, where I was detained for carrying $100 in quarters in my bag, 6 months of emptying my pockets. They believed me--I was going gambling. I headed out to the gate, rather tired from work that week, and got on a United flight to Denver, then a Shuttle by United flight to Las Vegas. After many hours in cramped economy seats, I hauled my stuff out to ground transportation and rode a shuttle to Treasure Island, where I checked in and headed to my room on the 25th floor. They charged me more than the room was really worth, but hey, I had it! The elevators there are high-speed express types, which only go to a few floors each. An impressive facility, like most big Vegas hotels.
I was scheduled to meet with one of the chatters, by the name of Sodafizz, the next day. Being to myself, I played a bunch of quarter slot machines (I eventually learned to love the game of "Wild Cherry") and went to dinner at the Lookout Cafe, off the casino, which I adopted as my favorite chow-hall. I'm not into buffet eating. That evening, I watched the setting sun drench the mountains in the northeast with a gorgeous orange-red glow, while the mock pirate ship battles went on below my window. The Vegas Strip to the north, looking downtown, then took over the scene, with every imaginable electric light display.
Thur 6 November 1997 -- More face to face
After waking up way too early, on account of 3 hours' jet lag, I had breakfast and played more slots. Then, I met up with Soda, as planned, in the lobby area of Treasure Island. They need some seats in there. Later in the afternoon, we found Littlejake and his wife at the Frontier, up the street, then met Debrarose, whom we later moved to the Frontier from a budget motel which did not meet her liking. I worked as porter, after being reminded by Soda of a man shortage. Our small group then congregated at one of the bars at the Frontier, where both ladies tried to cheer me up a bit. I'm sure the bartender was entertained. I kept thinking (and saying), "you know, this will just end up being over, and I'll have to fly...Back East. What point is there in having fun that must end?"
That evening, we attempted to find some good nightclub action and dancing. The tip we got was the VooDoo Lounge, atop the 50-story Rio Suite Hotel on Flamingo Rd. This place was so immense you can (and we did) get lost. After a stop at McDonald's and a short but pitched food fight (no, no slot machines there), we arrived at the Rio and stood in line to go up to the Lounge, a rather striking, darkened, smoke-filled place with voodoo iconography painted in fluorescent colors on a black matte background. No dance floor there (bummer), but the 5-member live blues band played some really good tunes. I was jamming in my seat. Outside the lounge, there was an open-air deck, with a grand, sweeping view of the entire Strip, downtown, and the airport, all stretched out in glittering lights in the distance. Luxor has a searchlight on its apex, it seems. I used this opportunity to get bearings. We met up with Lcrow and Sweet_Tang at the VooDoo. This is where I start losing track of exactly who was at every event. I rode back "early" to the hotel at 1:15 AM, 4:15 AM Eastern, which is after I usually get up for the day at work.
Fri 7 November 1997 -- Slowed-Down Day
The main event on my docket today was getting over to Planet Hollywood, in the Forum Shops at Caesars Palace. I rode in a taxi with Lcrow and Sweet_Tang, but it isn't really a bad walk from Treasure Island. I learned that the "Four Corners" at Flamingo Road (where the dark, unfinished shell of Bellagio was standing) is a good central location. We had about 15 people at our table for lunch. The food was decent enough, although I was starting to get annoyed at this point by all those restroom attendants, whose open hands reminded me of going to Europe in 1996--and not everyone can take "being watched...". When I got done eating, I got fidgety and paid my share early into the kitty. I walked over to the Caesars casino and lost a quick $20 in slots, but picked up a souvenir bucket. Not a lucky place. I then walked back to Treasure Island, up the Strip, and waited in my room for further instructions. Turns out I was too beat from the VooDoo Lounge to make that night's festivity, a visit to a place called "The Beach". Others were tired too, it seemed, so this wasn't the faux pas I thought it to be. I got to bed early, but not before hitting a 100- and 200-coin payout in rapid succession on a quarter slot machine over at the Mirage, where I rode on the tram from Treasure Island. That was scary, actually. I learned a lot about what quarters feel like and how many fill a container how far. They're also rather dirty, you know--I wonder what's in that grime, anyway...
Sat 8 November 1997 -- Closing Night in Vegas
The first scheduled event today was brunch at the Lookout Cafe, where I had breakfast that morning. I played some multi-game Keno over 5 hours and bet on Penn State to win over Michigan (losing bets, both of them). I called up Lcrow in her room and she told me I was supposed to try reserving our table, to which the Cafe hostess responded with a very polite version of "no way", since they were so crowded. That's Vegas for you--crowded. I rode back downstairs around 11:00 AM, the scheduled time, and found Moosemeyer in line, where I joined him. We got inside the restaurant, and chatters started pouring from the woodwork. One knocked over a piece of cake in the dessert display. We were seated at two separated tables, since the Cafe was so full. Soda was joined at this event by her man, Hotrod_34. At this point, I received my official Yahoo! Chat name badge. I wore it the rest of the day, since it made me feel like a convention-goer. It still saddens me that I couldn't associate as many faces as I'd like with the well-known chat handles that were on those tags. It was like going to a big family event, such as a wedding, seeing tons of people you haven't seen in a long time, but not having the time you'd like for more meeting with any of them in particular.
In the afternoon, as I was awaiting the call about evening dinner plans, I began organizing and packing my gear for the long flight home the next morning. The shuttle bus company said I needed a 7:00 AM pickup. Thus, no Tommy Rockers for me. Our bunch was partying at a rate I can't approach. At 6:45 PM, I got my place in the front walkway to the hotel and stood in the crossfire of the Treasure Island naval battle show, which I think would offend me somewhat if I were British.. It was great; I could feel the immense heat of those blasts. Then, I broke immediately from the immense crowd on Las Vegas Blvd and started working my way south to our rendezvous at "a seafood place" at the Imperial Palace, noting the just-prepared site of the Venetian on the way. The place turned out to be the Seahouse restaurant. I waited at an escalator landing after I ran into some familiar faces and other new ones, like Cryswolf. Finally, enough showed that we could go to our table and have dinner, in a group of about 20. After eating what I could, I started looking at my watch, and saw it was getting on 10:00 PM. I quickly paid my bill, thinking I might not get enough sleep, and hustled back up the Strip, past the erupting Mirage Volcano, and got to my room and the last night's sleep.
Sun 9 November 1997 -- The Long Road Home
I woke up on time, and took a shower. Being in a bit of a hurry,
I dropped my right glasses lens on the tile floor and broke it! There
was a big chunk I could still use to see. I packed my final bagful,
policed the room for anything left behind, and checked out. I had
breakfast at the Lookout and rode the shuttle van to the airport.
Since I was early, I played a few of those airport slots. Bad odds
there, too. But maybe I'm just getting superstitious. I boarded
my "non-stop" for Washington, an Airbus 320 which ended up having an in-flight
malfunction and had to land in Denver. This delayed my return home,
on another plane, by 5 hours. They said a fire extinguisher went
off in the cargo bay, but there was no sign of a fire. Well, I'm
glad United is so cautious, and that they could rustle up a whole B757
on such short order. That's still my favorite transcontinental airplane.
In the melee of paperwork in Denver, whose terminal I learned very well
in finding the one game arcade, I lost my parking pass and had to be detained
at the exit gate in Washington. As I drove home, I was immediately
aware that Northern Virginia, which ordinarily seems a bustling place,
appeared rather dark and somber (where were the lights?). First thing
I did when I got in at 10:30 PM, a very tired man...I hit the old chatroom,
what else?