The Vegas Strep

I'm bumming off a Panera Bread's free Wifi, killing time until 3 when I can finally check into my hotel and die. The inside of Magnolia smells like three unbathed, unshaved days of the stress of going through the Oregon mountains all the way through Idaho and Utah without snow tires while nursing a flu that might possibly be strep.*

I feel like shit in a crock pot, but I'm in Vegas, pallies.

Coo-coo.




*But probably not. After five days, my brutal sore throat is *finally* getting better, but I still feel warm and stuffy. If I don't feel a marked improvement, I'm gonna find a walk-in clinic and end up paying a hundred and something dollars for peace of mind. And/or antibiotics.

My first non-day in Vegas

On the sickness front, I'm now 99% certain that my swallowing-glass-shards sore throat has not been caused by flu or strep, but rather Degree deodorant. The "Power" scent, specifically. I haven't reacted like that since I ran afoul of that Burt's Bees stand.

So tonight is dedicated to not doing anything interesting, but rather trying to finally get a good, full night's sleep in so I can be ready for a full day tomorrow.

I'm staying at a hotel about a mile away from the main strip, barely far enough away to make getting to said strip *just* enough of a pain in the ass. I tried driving down there to find parking and nearly had an epileptic seizure from the Luxor alone. Driving is Vegas is most assuredly not for the easily distracted.

Among tomorrow's plans, I'm seriously considering visiting a bar which--according to THE UNDERGROUND GUIDE TO LAS VEGAS, will earn me a "Tom Waits/Charles Bukowski Citation for Daring While in the Pursuit of Drunkenness." They furthermore warn, "For the adventurous only. Be afraid. Be very, very afraid."

Tomorrow may prove to be eventful indeed. Hell, I probably won't even have time to blow a hundred bucks on blackjack as originally planned!