Ten Things to do in Vegas

Ten Things to Do in Las Vegas

By NYSwede

It was final. The arguing and fights were over, and in the end, I wondered why I fought at all. I didn't want to take the house and leave my wife, well, former wife, and daughter without a home. What would I have done with the furniture, dishes, and decorations anyway?

After thinking about it, I realized I fought simply because I was angry. My wife had met someone I had no power to stop. Hell, I wasn't even the right gender. After 12 years together, she had fallen in love with a woman at work. I was angry and felt betrayed.

I didn't want the stuff; I just wanted to make a point and scream...

"I'm angry and feel betrayed"

...but I couldn't bring myself to be angry with Sue; I loved her. I still loved her... but she didn't have room for me in her heart. She was consumed with Becca and the life she imagined they would have together.

The worst part about it was my daughter Kelly, my baby girl, the real love of my life, had said, out loud, in court,

"I want to live with Mom and Becca."

For me, that was the end. There was no more anger, no more anything. I felt empty, so I signed the papers and walked away without looking back.

The agreement required me to pay 65% of all salaried income in the form of "payroll deductibles," which were deposited directly into Sue's account for alimony and child support. This was a ridiculous penalty, considering I was the injured party, and both Sue and Becca made far more money than I did. While technically, they weren't married yet, they had the benefit of a two-income household.

I wasn't sure what Becca made as a Production Designer in Hollywood, but I knew Sue made great money as an AD (Assistant Director) for TV and Film.

Together, their incomes had to be five times mine. Why ask for anything, let alone so much? I guess it was a combination of greed and an expensive "man-eating" lawyer doing what her clients wanted... sticking it to the husband... Then again, lawyers do get a percentage, don't they?

Thankfully, the settlement didn't, or perhaps couldn't, draw funds from my Navy and VA disability or my monthly Social Security deposits It was clearly stated and explained that it could only be drawn from "a variety of salaried types of income".

Their lawyer tried to fight it, but the judge held firm (perhaps that was the judge's effort to give me something to live on).

I also got my car; it was owned and paid for before we married, and Sue never liked it anyway. So that was it. It was over... Sue, Kelly, Becca, and their lawyer left with smug looks on their faces; not even Kelly said goodbye.

I was given 48 hours to remove my things from my former home. All work had to be done during normal working hours to ensure no interaction between me and "the girls." Clearly, anything left behind would be forfeited or "destroyed."

I wondered, "Who says something like that?".

I had sorted my stuff in the garage into three piles... keeping, giving away, and throwing away. A quick post on Nextdoor with a couple of pictures got all my "giving away" things taken and even some of my "throwing away" things, too. The rest went into trash cans at the curb.

I had just finished loading my 1970 Chevelle. The trunk is huge, but I still needed to use the back seat for things on hangers. I hung a piece of conduit across the back with loops hanging it on the coat hooks just above the rear windows. I could hang all the clothes I wanted on that, which left the floor and seat for the few remaining boxes.

I sat behind the wheel, but before starting it, took out my cell phone and called my boss.

"Hi Mr. Langland... thank you, I'm fine... Yes, it's all over, I just finished packing... No, no, they're not here... right, that did make it easier... I'm sorry to dump this on you without notice, but I can't continue working knowing most of what I earn will go to them... Kelly? She wanted to stay with them and be in LA full-time...Yes, it broke my heart to hear that. It was the real reason I finally gave up...Even so, I'm setting up an account for her and will make deposits as I can... That's very kind, but I'm sure their lawyer would be all over anything "off the books"... The court order allows for audits if they feel like I'm not holding up my end; I don't want that to be an issue for you... I was hoping you wouldn't mind changing my last check. Instead of a salary check, maybe, unused vacation or sick days, something like that?"

"Right, that wouldn't be considered salary... hmm, bonuses? I'm unsure, but I don't want to take a chance; travel and entertainment reimbursement? is a great idea... Thank you so much; every little bit helps... let me check with my lawyer to ensure we're good... Thank you. I'll miss you and the team too, but I can't; I guess I really mean I won't work just to pad their bank account. Especially when they make maybe ten times what I do and don't need it. It's just punitive... Whenever you can will be fine."

"I'm not sure; I can't stay in LA for many reasons... I was thinking of Vegas. Haha, I know, I hate it too, but I found a hotel, The Rio Hotel and Casino, where rooms are only $20 a night. I could never find an apartment here for $600 a month, especially when you consider it includes housekeeping, parking, utilities, internet, TV, and a pool."

"Thank you, and the same to you. You've got a great team, and I know you'll continue to be successful... Oh, good, you saw it. Yes, that's the file I sent. It has everything I was working on, all the projects, and contact information for all my accounts."

"Thank you again for your help; take care, yes of course, if I'm ever in town, I'll stop by to say hello, I promise."

Mr. Langland really helped me out. 65% was ridiculous, but my lawyer was appointed; theirs was very expensive. You get what you pay for... until your friends help you.

By quitting my job, I ended any obligation to pay alimony or child support. I went to what had been our bank and opened an account for Kelly. I transferred any money on deposit I had received since their petition was filed, which was not "salary income," into a new personal account.

I withdrew my name from our joint bank accounts and filed all the paperwork to have future disability, pension, and social security payments deposited into my new account. I also cut up my joint account credit and debit cards and asked the bank officer to help me drop the pieces in the trash.

When I got back in my car, I put my forehead against the steering wheel and cried for just a second or two. It wasn't sadness as much as a release of tension. I would miss my daughter dearly, but the pain and anger were behind me, and life would begin again.

The Chevelle's bucket seats are comfortable and made for cruising. Once on the highway, I shifted into fifth gear and let the engine do the work. There was plenty of power if and when I needed to pass, but was happy cruising at 5 miles an hour over the speed limit. I loved the sound the car made at cruising speed.

When I left the bank, I took Victory Blvd east to the 101, then south on it until the right two lanes exit and merge with the 134 west. While the road is the same, it changes from the 134 to the 210 when you continue east past Glendale and Pasadena. Then, a few miles before San Bernardino, I headed north on Interstate 15 and stayed on that all the way to Las Vegas.

I waited to buy gas in Nevada and saved $30 on a fill-up. I checked the oil and water before heading off across the desert. People always approach me to ask questions and talk about the car. I always smile and try to be patient. I answered all the questions, had a snack, and got back on the road.

I headed west on Flamingo and north on Valley View in Las Vegas. I thought an inexpensive hotel would be cheap and a dive, but I was pleasantly surprised to see how nice The Rio Hotel was and how helpful and friendly the staff was.

Of course, if they saw it, they couldn't stop asking questions about his car...

"Wow, I like that stick shift; you got the Rock Crusher?"

"No, it's a five-speed transmission, also a Muncie, the Getrag 282. The "Rock Crusher" is a four-speed. I wanted overdrive... I assume you're okay with driving a stick?"

"Yes, sir, of course. I've never seen a Chevelle in this color."

"The color is custom. It was available as a standard color on 1970 Corvettes, but Metallic Bright Blue was not an option for the Chevelle that year."

"Big block?"

"Nope, it's a bored and stroked 383 with performance headers and cam. The four-barrel carburetor was switched out for electronic fuel injection, and we tuned the chip. Everyone wants a big block, but Chip Foose recommends upgrading to a 350 to improve the power-to-weight ratio and overall performance. Besides, it still gets over 400 HP."

"Wow, it sounds great. I'll take good care of her..."

The valet promised to park the car in the VIP section and watch over it. I tipped him well but still noted the mileage, just in case. After all, I have seen Ferris Bueller's Day Off.

Like I said, the hotel was great. I got a smaller, out-of-the-way room, but it was more than enough. I was promised an upgrade if I spent enough time and money in the casino and accumulated points, but that wouldn't happen.

I was hungry, and it was getting late, so I grabbed my old leather bomber jacket and checked the front desk to see if I could get a recommendation.

It had been a long day; I was looking for a light meal and good tequila. The concierge recommended the Sundry at UnCommons, which is basically a specialty food court with great options for a quick bite, but mostly because a place called B.S. Taqueria was there and was well known for good food and unique, high-quality tequila.

The food was good, and while they seemed to be promoting Kotos OX, it is really expensive. So I found a very nice Komos Extra Anejo that tasted great but was still not what one would call an inexpensive tequila and sat at the bar sipping it. I was unwinding from the day... I call it "getting the road out of my eyes," and people seem to understand.

Michael, the bartender, and I bonded over my knowledge and experience with tequila, so even though it was pretty busy, he found time to check on me and even chat a little now and then, as he would add, "Just a touch" to my glass so it stayed pretty full.

I needed the bathroom, so I put a coaster over my drink and waved to Michael to let him know I'd be back. He gave me a thumbs-up and pointed me in the right direction. I don't know why, but I turned to look back as I walked across the room, just in time to see two women grab my seat and the empty one next to it. No big deal, I thought, but then the blonde grabbed my drink and put it on the tray of a busboy clearing the table nearby; I thought, "How rude."

A few minutes later, I returned and leaned in, saying, "Excuse me."

The blonde immediately says...

"We're together and not looking for company... so if you don't mind."

"I'm not hitting on you; you can have my seat. I was just looking for my drink."

"The bartender took it; he said you were going home." She said it almost with a snarl as if she almost believed her own lie.

"Really?" I raised my hand a little to get Michael's attention; he came right over.

"Hey Michael..." ... "This...",

I hesitated because people use "them" and "they" instead of him and her.

"...Person says you took my drink and told them I went home."

"Nope". Was all he said as he grabbed the bottle and poured me another.

It's $75 for a generous shot, so I just shook my head and thanked him. I would make sure to be generous when the check came.

I didn't say anything to the blonde, but I knew, she knew, she had been busted. Funny, though, she was the kind of person who didn't care and clearly felt she had some sort of right to do as she pleased.

There was space and enough room to be comfortable at the end of the bar, so I stood there. I was close but not intrusive. I relaxed. I like people-watching. All the very different people one sees in a bar are interesting to me. I watched as they chatted and laughed. I couldn't help wondering what made them laugh or what they were talking about... You know, like I said, it's just people-watching.

The Blonde turns toward me,

"Can't you find somewhere else to stand?"

Some people... "Haha, you're a piece of work... You put my drink on the busboy's tray when you grabbed my seat. Now, you think you can tell me where I should or shouldn't stand?"

"I did no such thing."

She was shocked when I quietly said,

"You lying sack of shit, I saw you..."

I was about to go off on her entitled, self-absorbed, skinny ass when the other lady leaned in a little. I had seen her jet-black wavy hair, and I knew she was slim and well dressed, but when I saw her face, her bright blue eyes met mine; I think I said something like..."

"Do eh... but, but, but..."

The blonde saw where I was looking and said,

"OH PLEASE, she is so out of your league; we're just having a girl's night out; no assholes invited."

Blue eyes spoke...

"Connie, you took his drink and his seat; all things considered, I think he's being pretty nice about it. Why don't we change seats if you don't want to sit so close?"

"Eddie, this guy is a nobody... oh screw it, okay, change seats, we'll finish our drinks and find a better place..."

Honestly, I didn't really hear what else she said; they switched seats while I, looking straight into her eyes, asked,

"Eddie?"

"Haha, my parents were old-fashioned; it's Edwina, Edwina Simpson..."

We shook hands,

"...named after my grandfather Edward, but I was a tomboy growing up and have been called Eddie since I was 4. Even my parents started doing it when I was in junior high school."

"Well Eddie, I'm Wes, Wes Roberts, and I would love to get to know you."

"We are having a girl's night out."

She nodded her head towards Connie, but when we looked, she had already started chatting with a couple of guys in cowboy hats; I assumed they were in town for the rodeo.

Eddie looked too and sighed, "I sat in that seat to keep her away from the cowboys..."

"Oh?"

"Yup, cowboys are her weakness, it won't be long now, she'll say...

something like, 'These guys are going to a country western bar; let's go do some line dancing.' She knows I hate that whole scene; I'm generally way too quiet and even sort of shy..."

"Really? I understand not liking loud clubs and people, but I would have never considered you shy."

"I guess you're right; maybe reserved is a better word."

"Well, feel free to be as quiet and reserved as you like anytime you're with me, and I'll do my best not to break into a Ten Step Polka... Hahaha."

She laughed too... I couldn't help noticing how nice her laugh sounded.

Then, as if a timer went off, Connie turned back toward Eddie and said,

"Come on, babe. There's Gillie's only 15 minutes from here. These guys are going. Let's go dancing."

"No thanks, I think Wes and I will try to do the "top ten things" everyone should do in Las Vegas..."

She turned back toward me,

"Right?"

I didn't miss a beat...

"Oh, I thought we would try for fifteen, but ten sounds great."

Eddie turned back to Connie,

"You go and have a great time; you can tell me all about it tomorrow."

Connie knew what Eddie would say, and she was mentally already gone. She stood up, grabbed the arm of one cowboy, and headed toward the door.

I asked, "Is she going to be alright?"

"Oh, she'll wear them out on the dance floor and then take them both on in bed. Haha."

All I could say was, "Oh boy... So what are the top ten things to do in Las Vegas?"

I was only kidding and assumed she was, too, but she pulled out her phone and said,

"Let's see... hmm this site has all kinds of Grand Canyon trips, I think we should stay in Vegas proper, don't you?."

"Definitely, only typical "Las Vegas" things; things we have heard about a hundred times and are always highlighted in movies. Haha."

She continued...

"Okay, first, they have to be in the city, so that rules out Grand Canyon and anything that takes too long to get to, they're amazing and may be natural, or even, manmade wonders, but for tonight they're off limits."

I had been looking and said,

"Here's a site that seems to have just the right mix of tacky iconic and cool. Let's make a list...

"Take a selfie at the 'Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas' sign."

"Fremont Street Experience"

"Las Vegas Strip"

"Fountains of Bellagio"

"The Elvis Chapel"

"Stratosphere Tower"

"Gondola rides"

"Neon Museum"

"High Roller Ferris wheel"

"The Mob Museum"

...Did you get them all?"

I laughed out loud,

"Haha, these sounds ridiculous and great. Are you sure you want to do ten?"

"I think ten is going to be plenty, we may not even get through them all, but it gives us something to shoot for... Let's check the map."

She was talking more to herself than me and said,

"... Okay, so we take a cab to the sign, get the picture, and ask them to wait, then head to Fremont Street."

I was watching her think and listen,

"Sounds good; I like a girl who takes charge."

I'm sure I heard her whisper..." Oh, really?" Under her breath, I filed it away but didn't react.

An Uber made sense, as it gave us time to finish our drinks, I paid her tab and mine, and tipped Michael in a way that said, I appreciated him. He started to say something when he saw the hundred, but I held up my hand and said,

"Thank you for everything." while nodding toward Eddie.

He smiled and said,

"That was all you, brother. Have fun."

A few people were taking pictures at the sign, so we all helped each other and got a great shot of us standing out front, on each side of the sign, with our arms spread out. It was touristy and perfect.

The woman who took our picture suggested one with the two of us hugging, so we backed up, and she took the picture. It was so corny, but the hug was nice.

The Uber driver had waited for us, so it was a quick trip up to the "Fremont Experience," which was what it was... Seeing the zip-line overhead and a place that offered free food for anyone over 350 pounds told us everything we needed to know about who their target audience was and left, almost immediately, heading south on 3rd.

Eddie looked at her phone and said,

"Oh! There's a Starbucks on Clark. It's just a couple of blocks down and one block over..."

She jumped up and down and put her hands together as if praying, saying...

"...Please, please, please."

I laughed and said,

"It's not on the list, but... Okay, let's go; I can get a green tea."

Heading south on 3rd Street, we turned right onto East Clark Ave and froze. We looked at the sign and then at each other. Right there, out front of the building, was a sign...

"Clark County Marriage License"

Eddie didn't hesitate;

"Haha, we should go in... you can't have a wedding without a license."

"That's true; even an Elvis wedding should have a license."

So we did. Even though it was fairly crowded, it took less than twenty minutes and cost one hundred and two dollars. We chatted while we waited and learned a lot about each other while filling out the forms. This would be her second marriage, my third; we both lived in California, me in the Valley Glen section of Los Angeles, her in Carmel Valley near Monterey and Big Sur. I'm sixty, she's forty-five, and so on.

We pretty much giggled the entire time. I even heard people saying things like;

"They're making plans for later." Or, "I guess they're nervous."

We quietly felt it was better for people to think those things instead of how silly we felt playing our little game. We didn't want other people to think we were somehow making fun of them or minimizing the love they shared... Even so, we would look at each other now and then in what I thought was the nicest way. I couldn't escape the feeling that all this joking around was stirring some feelings I couldn't describe.