A few hours, a swim, and a nap after our arrival at Palace Station Hotel and Casino, we boarded the Palace Station Shuttle Bus with FIL, PHD's sisters and their spouses and our athletic nephew. Dropped off at the Tropicana Hotel & Casino we could have walked, but instead we took two separate cabs to the Bellagio, where Cirque du Soleil performed "O", their modern water ballet. Hurricane strength desert winds nearly knocked me off my feet as I struggled to the entrance of the hotel. Dazzling interior, plunging necklines, bra-less miracles and couples with generational gaps larger than the number of years I've been out of kindergarten, made for a satisfying opening performance to "O", the show.
I'm not going to write about the show now (or ever), but afterwards we met with PHD's Clever Aunt and Cool Uncle, who live in Las Vegas part of the year and are avid poker players.
CA and CU took us out for breakfast at the cafeteria of the Monte Carlo Hotel and Casino. At the next table over "O's" four Malaysian contortionists showed a good appetite. On our way to Palace Station CU attempted a short-cut which got us to see more of the city than the city planners like tourists such as us to see. PHD and I love getting lost, it's got us to get to know places much better.
On Saturday WA and her daughter Amazone Couz returned in AC's car to show us around town. PHD and I wanted to ride the Monorail. Surprised CA and AC said they had been wanting to do that forever, so this was their chance. AC parked her vehicle at the Sahara Hotel & Casino parking lot, which was near our Palace Station Hotel and Casino, and from there we got on the elevated. A ticket good for one entree only cost $3, PHD and I each bought a day pass for ten bucks.
The concierge of our hotel told us a cab ride to downtown's Fremont Arcade would cost $10. The (our second) Russian cabby told us not to mind his meter, he charged a flat rate. "Ten bucks," he said when we got out at Fremont. PHD fingered the change in his pocket for a tip. The look on the cabby's face that of a dog who hopes you have a treat in your pocket, while knowing he already had one.
The African cab driver who took us back to the hotel that night, did have his meter running, which showed $8.40 upon arrival, we rounded it off to ten. The first guy's flat rate had included a tip! From the hotel we walked to the 7 Eleven to buy a few things. Our African cabby greeted us as if we were old acquaintances.
"I guess we could have asked you to take us here," PHD said.
We all laughed.
Sunday morning we discovered the Monorail's daypass was good for 24 hours! Of course. New York may be the city that never sleeps, neither does Sin City.
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