I’m in Las Vegas for a technical conference this week, and the entire affair has started out rather badly.
(If you don’t want to hear me pitch and moan, best not read this entry.)
I know everyone knows how commercial Vegas is. Unless you’ve been here recently, you really don’t. Really. While I stood waiting for my baggage, there was no direction I could turn my head where I couldn’t see at least a half dozen ads or multi-screen videos touting some show or other. It’s depressing as hell, because the entire super-wazoo stupendous spectacle is built upon lies and half-truths.
Since I had no say in the booking of the flight and hotel, I had to take a connecting flight through Denver instead of the non-stop which would have cost $40 more. The airline I flew (Frontier) had TV screens showing ESPN on the back of each seat’s headrest; there was no way to shut them down or hide the screen from view. I got smacked with commercial after how-it-was-made documentary after snippets of commercial television. Thank Joe I couldn’t hear it.
And of course in the process of taking the connecting flights, they lost my checked bag. (I got a call a little while ago. My bag went to Portland where the first-leg plane ended up. It’s supposed to be delivered to the hotel late tonight.)
I was told there was a hotel shuttle from the airport. Wrong.
When I checked into the hotel, I had no reservation. The travel service that organized this donkey derby booked my flight to travel today (as they should have), but they booked my hotel room to check in yesterday. Since I didn’t show, I lost my reservation. Fortunately that didn’t seem to difficult to fix.
I was told to go to the wrong part of the hotel to find my room. There was no 12th floor, so back I go to the front desk. It turns out that they put me in the “West Wing”, which is a remote block of rooms located a 15-minute brisk walk from the front lobby. Once at my room door I discovered that the key didn’t work. Another 15-minute shlep back to the front desk for a new set of keys.
During those three brisk walks, which included walking through the entire hotel casino all three times, I discovered two things:
- This hotel does not allow fresh air into the building; it completely recycles its air. It’s stuffy and flat and smells vaguely of humanity.
- Smoking is allowed in the hotel. (I’ve seen several cigarette vendors and loads of ashtrays.)
You can guess what this magic combination has done for my asthma.
An old colleague whom I haven’t seen in ages was at one of the casino bars, so I sit down with him and some old co-workers only to discover that 1) the table of six had three smokers, and 2) my blood sugar was starting to really bottom out (drinking is a big no-no in that situation), and 3) casino bars are noisy as hell. (Well, I knew #3, but I’ve gotten very intolerant of such in my old age.)
I had to leave after 5 minutes, using the excuse that I had to find something to eat. On the way, I thought I’d go check in at the technical conference desk. Turns out they were in the process of shutting down and packing up for the night as I (finally) got there — this time a 20-minute walk. The good news (yes, there is some good news here) is that they stopped the process long enough for me to get my stuff.
On the way back to the hotel, I had to pick up something to eat. I then get a call from one of my co-workers, who tells me to hustle, because there were a bunch of them in the lobby ready to go eat. So I walk away from the fast food I’d just ordered and paid for and hustled to the lobby. By the time I get there, my blood sugar level is making me a little faint, and the co-workers have already left. I was messaged by them to go out to the taxi stand and ask where they had gone (some place called “Area”).
I’d had enough. I sent a text telling the co-workers I have to eat NOW — I’d catch up with them later.
~~~
The good news? I’m still drawing breath, I didn’t lose my meds or my CPAP machine (I always carry-on that stuff), and I got a room to myself.
But I tell ya — if things don’t get better tomorrow, I’m going home early.