stranded in las vegas

It was the most hilarious weekend in Las Vegas, and despite the fact that I generally hate Las Vegas and that nothing went according to plan, I had a good time and was totally content to have come for my friend's birthday.

We were pleased with ourselves to have booked a return flight for 1:30 pm on Sunday, unlike the last time I was here when we made the mistake of thinking an extra Sunday night in Las Vegas would be anything but the most painful and unpleasant idea ever.

And even more pleased with having arrived at the airport right on time, and checked luggage because my friend had received a bottle of illegal 7-year aged Havana Club purchased in the Cayman Islands for her birthday and I talked her out of abandoning it. And ecstatic that my friend had been given United Premiere Associate status by her boyfriend and expedited our check-in.

When our flight was delayed an hour, we thought no big deal, and flipped through magazines before boarding the plane. Upon boarding, they gave us vouchers for some kind of compensation for our inconvenience. This seemed extremely generous for an hour delay, and as my friend checked the compensation options on her blackberry, which included a $25 voucher or 3000 miles, they announced inspection of a mechanical issue.

The flight attendants entertained us by playing the guess our combined age game for a free drink, and promised us beverages (and potable water) would arrive soon. When they shut down the plane to reboot the computer system (a "control-alt-delete" for the plane), we laughed while sitting in the dark because opening the windows would have made the aircraft unbearably hot.

We still didn't mind when we de-planed and went to get my friend a burger. I had 12 messages on my mobile from United telling me of my changed flight status, and the last one said we would be taking off in 20 minutes. We stood in line at what looked like a good restaurant, but when it was taking forever, we decided to just get burger king (BK veggie...mmmmm). When we arrived back at the gate, they said we would have more information in 20 minutes. As we consumed our unnecessarily fast food, it was announced that our flight was canceled, that no other aircraft could be obtained, and that it was unlikely we could find any other flights out that day.

We left the gate, went back to the Premiere line (thankfully, not only was I with my hilarious friend rather than traveling alone, my friend also had Premiere status, and we did not have to wait in the horrible long line with the angry, angry other passengers), and waited while we were booked on the first available morning flight, which was just before noon. They put us up at the Hampton Inn, which was halfway decent, and we sat by the by now shaded pool in the blow-dryer wind and recounted everything hilarious that had happened until now. We went out to eat, and for a drink, and I came back exhausted past 1:00 and asked the hotel desk agent where I could get on the internet. She said they had nothing.

My friend had joked that the only thing that could go worse would be a fire alarm going off in the middle of the night. I failed to see the humor when it actually happened at 6:00 in the morning, when after 4 hours of sleep I couldn't get back to sleep and spent 45 minutes trying to teach myself to use my friend's blackberry and connect to my work e-mail (so that I could inform my department of my situation, and subject myself to endless ridicule), and every site worked except gmail and my work e-mail, even after I played with the browser and connection options. Finally, after realizing I would never fall back asleep, I went downstairs, prepared to leave the hotel in search of internet.

I went down to the front desk to ask where I should go for internet, and the guy says, "Down the hall and to the left." When I explain to him that his colleague last night told me there was no internet, he said last night was a bad night. I asked if I just put in my credit card. "No, it's free."
Ah, the cherry on top.

I will be so happy when I get the hell out of here. I am fighting off what might be a cold, or what might be just the Las Vegas. Despite our planning, the Las Vegas wanted us to stay through Sunday night, and there was nothing we could do about it.

City is way too small

We were waiting in the will call line for City Arts and Lectures, my boyfriend of now two months telling me about the restaurant he's taking me to for my birthday next month but won't tell me the name of, and I'm asking whether I should dress up, and could I wear the dress I'm wearing, something stupid, and we're being obnoxiously affectionate, when I hear my name from behind me.

Right behind us in line is my ex-boyfriend, who I haven't seen since the day we broke up, and spoke up right then either because he just realized it was me when he recognized my loud voice talking about wearing my dress to a friend's holiday party, or because he didn't want to watch him put his hand on my hip anymore.

The poor guy looks really uncomfortable, and I default to overly enthusiastic -

"HI! How ARE you!" and introduce them, as they eye each other carefully. He's by himself, so I start to worry that he's attending this event by himself and seeing me on a date, which is beyond uncomfortable, so I ask,
"Are you...meeting anyone here?"
"Yeah, I'm meeting this girl who I've been...dating...for a while... We should have lunch sometime..."
"Definitely! ... Wow, it's so funny to run into you here."
"Yeah, awkward."
"Eh, it's not so bad."
"Uh, I'm going to go to the back of the line..."
"It's fiiiiiiine," I say, to which he smiles uncomfortably and again says,
"I'm going to go...back there..."

I tell my boyfriend I am really curious to see who my former boyfriend is dating, and try to glance back but can't get a look. I tell him I bet she's blonde, with big boobs, and laugh out loud.
He gets a look when we're sitting down and says she's pretty cute and blonde but not his type.

This is the sort of thing that always happens to me.