Vegas

So here we are, day two and a bit in Las Vegas. My second time here; Heino's first.

I can't tell if he stole the phrase from me or I stole it from him but he keeps referring to himself as 'this little black duck'! Thus last night, late, at the bar, over beer and wine, when the hooker managed eye contact and he had to wave her away, with the aforementioned phrase.

I haven't been anywhere near the Blackjack tables; having managed to actually come out ahead at a casino in Reno a couple of years ago I haven't dared go back. We have managed to lose a few dozen bucks on the slot machines though Sonya did win a hundred on our first night. Alas, that hundred has since disappeared back into the maw of the money making machinery!

Nonetheless, it's been a good time here. All you have to do is suspend any notions of good taste and you're in! We're at the Tropicana, the cheap seats, and let me tell you, it's so cheap they charge for the internet connection! This must be the last place left in North America where the hotels charge for internet access. Indeed, I'd become so used to the idea of tapping into the hotel-named unsecured wireless access point that it came as quite a shock when the only page I could get to required a credit card!

We're off to the show later this arvo; you can't come to Vegas and *not* go to a show. The one we chose (and don't tell Heino this, it's a surprise) is The Fab Four at Planet Hollywood. More his speed than mine I fear but he's been a Beatles fan for yonks and I'm sure he'll love it.

For the rest, it's been long rounds of tramping from one fantasycasino to the next. But once you get onto the gaming floor itself it's damn near impossible to tell one from another. They even sound exactly the same, with that low volume minor third chord they pump into the room to put you ever so slightly on edge. Very subtle. Even Crown Casino in Melbourne sounds exactly the same.