Original Post: August 6, 2015

Bring on the crazy!  Day 9 meant Vegas time.  Life in Las Vegas is supposed to be pretty fast, right?  Everything on television and in the books, at least, seems to imply that’s the case.

Oh, but didn’t your mother ever tell you that not everything you see on TV is true?

But before I get ahead of myself…

We left the Grand Canyon, with me still on Ibuprofen, and headed to Vegas. I was still bummed that my ankle was in pain, but by my calculation, I had several days for it to heal before I intended to use it in any sort of vigorous activity.  We were ready to live city life for a bit, culture shock though it might be. 

And it was.  But first, a stop for car maintenance.

We stopped at Jiffy Lube to get an oil change and tire rotation as we’d now traveled our 3,000 miles (what responsible car owners we are).  But, Jiffy Lube was anything but jiffy.  Over a torturous hour later (spent watching golf on their mini-tv, snooooooooze), we were on our way to the hotel.  Despite the delay, we still arrived at the hotel an hour earlier than check in, but the hotel had a room available.  Thank goodness.  This scored The Mirage major points in my book.

The lobby of The Mirage is everything a Las Vegas hotel lobby should be.  Gorgeous and reeking of money (and stale cigar smoke from the casino).  But, we soon discovered that that appears to be the case for everything in Las Vegas. 

We were too tired to worry about the lunch that we skipped, so we headed to our room on the 19th floor for a nap.  A glorious nap.  In an even more glorious bed.  We hadn’t slept in a real bed since St. Louis (although there was a cabin bed in Kansas) and the feeling of sinking into pillows was divine.

When we woke up, we were more than ready for dinner and I practically salivated in anticipation of In-and-Out Burger, which I had been told by a coworker was the best burger I’d ever have.  I was ready to put her words to the test.  Finally ready to leave, we exited the room and entered the hallway only to hear a strange noise.  Pausing, we waited.

Wait.

Really?

Yes, the person (Um, people?  One would likely assume.) was having a good time doing exactly what you think should be going on in a Las Vegas hotel mid-afternoon.

Moving on.

We headed to the elevators, giggling a little on the way.  It’s true.  Some of us never really do grow up.

Remember that culture shock I mentioned?  Our drive to the local In-and-Out was enough of a shock in weirdos alone.

Where else can you see this: 

And this:

And this:

There are no words.

Onward to dinner.  Best. Damn. Burger.  I’ve ever had.  Yum.  Why on earth don’t these exist on the east coast?  Why are we resigned to eating McDonald’s and Burger King when west-coasters dine on gourmet fare such as this??  Something here is wrong.  In the name of equality, I urge you all to rise up.  Rise up and help to bring the In-and-Out Burger to the east coast.  We deserve this.  You deserve this.  (More importantly, I WANT it.)

We made it down to the Monte Carlo just in time for the Blue Man Group.  It was a phenomenal show – funny, entertaining, and interactive – a good choice and definitely recommended.  Plus, you can pose for a photo with a sweaty blue man afterwards.  And who doesn’t want that?

We spent a half hour or so at the casino, put $10 on red and won twice.  That was enough for us.  (About two times more than I needed, to be honest…)

But of all of things we saw and did in Vegas, there was one thing we DIDN’T do.  (No, it had nothing to do with the strip clubs, we had no desire to do those…either one of us…and yes, I believe him.)  We completely forgot to see these guys:

One of Nate’s favorite shows, it had been on our list of things to see in Vegas from day one.  But we had been so distracted by everything to see that we forgot to check in with Pawn Stars.  How?  How could we forget it?  Las Vegas is like ADHD on crack.  We didn’t stand a chance at remembering anything we had thought of before coming in.  Should you travel this way, you’ve been forewarned.  Vegas is a vortex.  You won’t remember half of what you do, and you’ll likely be distracted by every– oh, look, a squirrel.  

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the real reason why what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.