Gave a ride to a platonic writer friend last weekend over to South Lake Tahoe, right on the California/Nevada stateline. He, being of the moderately successful adult SF writer-type--and a committed bachelor--has a condo timeshare that he utilizes one week out of the year to recharge.
It'd just snowed the day before and the lifts had just opened--I found this out by listening to a couple of ski bums (snowboard bums just doesn't have quite the same ring, does it?) at the first bar we visited. "You're so observant," said Matt, as he perused the drink menu. I didn't tell him it was a skill I'd acquired over many, MANY diligent years of research on Maui. At this point, I was still hoping to impress with my piercing intellect and cultured sophistication.
"Ooo, hot cocoa with peppermint schnapps!" I exclaimed, clapping. He looked at me, with notsomuch reverence as bemusement.
I get that a lot.
Later we trekked around the casinos, checking out the glitz and the grits of gambling...Matt even placed a few bets on a roulette table, winning $70 before calling it quits. At one point, as I stood behind him watching, a slightly inebriated but attractive older fellow walked up to me, gesturing to a wad of cash. "Will you place this for me?" he asked, sheepishly. Confused, I looked at Matt. "Oh, you're with him--sorry," said the guy. And I walked away with Matt, wondering if I was just confused for Lady Luck...or possibly, a hooker.
I get that a little less.
(The bottom four photos are of these very cool lighting fixtures at the stylish Montbleu Resort Casino)
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