Ahhh, the glamour of business travel. Rental-car shuttles, hours of waiting in the crap-ass Vegas airport, what's not to love. The trip started out well enough. When I tried to check in at my original hotel the desk clerk got a weird look on her face and disappeared for 5 minutes. I was getting worried that somebody had booked my room with a stolen credit card. Turns out, my room wasn't available. Wouldn't BE available this trip. Not good. Until she appologized and offered to comp my night at the Four Seasons. OK. If she was going to insist. My room at the Four Seasons was bigger than my first apartment. Hell, it was bigger than any apartment I ever lived in. And cleaner. Ten years of travelling to Vegas and I had never been propositioned by a "working girl" until I was in the elevator headed back to my room last night. I actually shouldn't assume they were pro's, but one was wearing a skirt shorter than my underwear and they asked if I "wanted to party". Probably pro's. That kind of crap never happened at the Howard Johnson. Needless to say, I politely declined. They probably wouldn't have been happy with the $65.75 I won at the slots. Actually, this wasn't a bad trip. The only reason I'm so cranky right now is the Vegas airport only seems to have one functioning lounge and it's jammed. Bastards. Oh,well. I can always get a tiny drink on the flight home.
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