The Pre-Walk of Shame

Breakfast buffet at the hotel - $24.95. I don't think so, you mooks. Because I have lounge access at the airport.

Day 1 - Saturday August 22 - part 1

It was BobbyG Flambe Surprise day at last! And a beautiful morning in Toronto.

I felt like utter crap, but one has to get on with it, and after a long shower, that's what I did.

My flight was scheduled for 1:00 pm so I would have a fairly leisurely morning until then.

I packed up all my stuff, and walked over to the airport. No shuttle, no taxi, no bullshit, just a nice five minute stroll.

Security was pretty easy. I have Nexus and Precheck, plus I am Internet Faymus. Still, they always rip apart certain things for a hand check. But I know this and pull out the stuff they want to see.

The Portable Beaker kettle dealy. (The Little Giant is back in Florida.)

The 250g package of ground coffee.

The CPAP.

But it went quick, and the border dude didn't give me a hassle and before I knew it, I was up the elevator, ready to give the finger to Air FU Canada.

Normally, First Class domestic travel in the States does not get you lounge access. But because I'm crossing an international border, I get to use the lounge. United is a Star Alliance partner with AC. And United doesn't have their own lounge in Toronto.

And so it was that I waltzed into the Maple Leaf Lounge, ready to ravage them for all the calories I could.

There were definitely some breakfast foods and I made the most of it!

To really slam it home that I was the boss and a 'somebody', I took a chocolate chip cookie out of the lounge when I left. That's how Flusher rolls.

I boarded the flight to Chicago and off we went.

There was some turbulence due to a transient high El Nino low pressure front trough zone or some shit.

The transient high El Nino low pressure front trough zone.

We arrived in Chicago and taxied for about three hours, which is typical for the O'hareport. 

I was a bit disoriented in the terminal, but everything fell into place. The Bank of America was on my way to Terminal B, so I did the Pre-Walk of Shame.

The big tunnel led me to my gate which was across from the United lounge. Couldn't be easier.

I beeped in no problem at all and - holy moly, what an upgrade from the sad sack Maple Leaf Lounge.

I wasn't hungry, particularly, and it didn't matter. Look at what was on offer!

There was whole other bar of salad and other stuff, not pictured, and of course a full bar.

The flight to Vegas boarded on time, but it took forever to get off the ground. As we took off I counted 11 planes waiting to leave - the line we'd just waited in.

They changed the plane to an older 737 so the wifi was useless. No matter.

I decided to watch a movie - Project Hail Mary - which was quite long and kept me entertained through the flight.

And so did various distractions such as Buffalo Trace on ice, and the delicious meatballs I had for dinner.

There was some incredible cloud art on the way - just super dramatic views.

Before I knew it, we were descending into Vegas.

Which is where I made the stupidest blunder.

First Day Minus One

How much do you want to know? I packed.

I kept it simple and as quick and efficient as possible. That meant 2 hours of packing on Thursday night and 6 hours on Friday, departure day.

Day 0 - Friday August 21

My buddy Dwiggie volunteered to whisk me to the Flusherville train station. He was right on time - 45 minutes early.

No matter, it gave us time to talk.

It was pretty much a perfect summer's day and we spent some time in the diminutive Business Class lounge at Flusherville Station. Amenities include five folding chairs and a half a case of warm Coke sitting on the floor.

As an expert, savvy traveler, I'm always aware of my environs. I gave Dwiggie the folding chair that wobbled.

Departure time neared so we went outside and reveled in the perfect weather.

We got talking about all kinds things. Dumb things. Guy things.

"You know, Dwiggie, I have this weird thing," I said, motioning him closer, because I do not want anyone to know this weird personal thing about me. He leaned in.

"Almost always, when I check in to a hotel and first go into my room, I immediately have to have a visit from the Major."

"Major Dumperooski?"

"Yup," I said, nodding sagely. "If it happens this time, I'll text you a code word. Shabba"

"I really don't need to know this," said Dwiggie, just as the train pulled in.

I got on board and we waved goodbye like I was an 11 year old heading off to camp. 

And off I went (hopefully) in the direction of Toronto.

It was a smooth ride. I was seated facing backwards, but that doesn't bother me.

The service included dinner - I opted for the beef brisket Mac 'n Cheese.

The brisket was pretty yummy but drowning anything in a quarter cup of Bullseye will make anything taste good. The Mac 'n was delicious. There was a little salad complete with a little slice of some sort of cheese, and a little round of some sort of fruit - I don't know what it was.

There was a Nanaimo bar that was meh - the truffles they handed out later were a much better chocolate.

Pictured up there is a beer, and I enjoyed it immensely. Not too heavy, not to hoppy, not too bitter. It had a beery start and a beery finish with notes of IPA, beer, yeast, hops and alcohol.

We arrived in Toronto around 7:00 pm and I was still hungry, so I snarfed down a McDick's Double Cheeseburger and then headed to the airport on the Union Pearson Express. Six bucks and change for this senior gambling citizen.

Before the trip, I'd carefully sussed out that I could really walk from Terminal 3 to the hotel, and it turned out that yup, I could. There were even tracks worn in the bit of grass you have to cross from people's luggage. It was easy and safe.

A tear came to my eye as I passed the dog relief area. I thought of Chippy and all the reliefs I'd watched her do. And then carefully bagged them for storage until Christmas.

Move on, Flusher! Don't dwell on the furry past!!!

There it is! The walkable airport hotel!

I've run into this before - the hotel touts the magic virtual digital key thingy - and then it never arrives and you have to pick up a key at the desk. Bait and latch!!!

This was the case at the Four Points by Whoozis Sheraton Etc. I waited about 10 minutes and went up to inspect my room.

I was pleasantly surprised!

I had a couple of snorts of the Old Nasty that I brought with me, cut with the free Terrier water that came with my new-found La-di-dah Gold status (thanks to Platinum Amex) and pounded out a blog post.

Gotta keep up with that or it becomes insurmountable during the trip.

The main problem I had with the room was the temperature. There was a wall mounted unit with conflicting instructions.

The air conditioner had two modes - arctic blizzard winds, and nothing. And it took turns doing that all night long.

I had what I think was a down duvet and I woke up after a few hours drenched in sweat. Kicked that off and then I was freezing. After a bunch of wake-ups, I finally got up and adjusted the blizzard to sleet.

It all made for kind of a crummy night, but that's the way it goes sometimes.

For some reason, I'd forgotten the technique of running such a wall-mounted beast until the room is cool, and then shutting it off for the night and hoping for the best. Not savvy.

One way or the other, tomorrow I would be going to Las Vegas to give BobbyG an unexpected mental atomic wedgie.

Oh - I forgot something. Just after I got to my room, I messaged Dwiggie.

A Hot Plan

A few weeks ago, my good friend and fellow degenerate brother in video poker BobbyG mentioned he was going to be in Vegas soon.

Could I come and meet him there? Any chance?

Well with Chippy, no. Plus I told him Chippy was in heat. Which she was at the time.

A wonderful, terrible idea came to me. I would not tell BobbyG that Chippy had moved on to the next grade, and I would not tell BobbyG that I was coming to Vegas.

I would show up and surprise the G spot out of him.

And because of that, I am blogging the trip as I go, but not posting anything until I've blindsided him and swiped the lucky horseshoe he's been carrying around lately (unless it was up his ass).

Speaking of that, I had a colonoscopy 2 days before the trip. I have been getting one every five years. I won't bore you with the horrible prep you have to do.

The best part is when you get up on the gurney thingy and they shovel a veinload of white-hot liquid relaxation into you. Oh boy does that feel good.

"Is that the good stuff going in now?" I asked nurse Victoria.

"Yes - you should be feeling pretty chill now," she replied, and then began to pump the foot pedal that raises up the whole contraption so they can get at the hole thing.

"Oh my GAWD..." I said, dreamily, "Vicky, I feel like I'm floating, floating upward, out of my body, up towards the ceiling... am I flying?"

A moment of silence.

"Mr. Flusher, I'm raising up the whole gurney with you on it."

No dawning of the age of aquariass.

I watched the procedure on the monitor and bombarded the doctor with questions and comments.

"Dr. Pucker, if you find a polyp... I'm going to name it Jackson," I said.

Nothing. Tough room.

It all went smoothly and my butt was crystal clean. No polyps, no issues, which is great considering the number of bad habits I've enjoyed over the years.

I'd won the game and covered the spread.

Divana sent her driver over to pick me up and take me back to her place until I could 'come down' from my 'trip'. This is how I looked.

Now, having shepherded Chippy the Black Lab through her formative teenage months, morning to night, day after day after day with no breaks - I reckoned I deserved a real vacation. A nice one. One where stress is removed by the application of spondulacs.

I can't recall if it was a comment left on the last trip report or if someone said this to me - maybe Vegasbebe?? - dude, stop staying in places that are depressing and that you hate being in like Luxor and Excalibur just because they are comped. Stay in places that bring you joy.

That was the gist of it.

I called Jimmy Poon.

"Hello?" said Jimmy Poon.

"Hello Jimmy Poon. It's me. Royal."

"Hey Royal, how are you?"

"Fine, Jimmy Poon. Just fine. Are you fine?"

"Fine, Royal Flusher. Just fine."

"Jimmy, get to work on the WinSim 3000 computer - fire up your Artificial Stupidity dumb language model or whatever it is - get your AS in gear and design me a concept for this next trip to Vegas!"

"You've got it, Royal. As soon as I'm done with the lyric re-grammarization engine."

"And what does that do?"

"Royal, our kids have been bombarded with over a century of pidgin English, patois, slang, and vulgar popular song lyrics. This fixes it. They'll enjoy the power of rock and roll, and learn proper grammar. Like I did in my spare time when I came over."

"You do talk good smack, Jimmy Poon, and I ain't lyin'"

I hung up and plotted my travel plans.

I won't make a big deal out of this. Here's how it ended up.

First, I paid for a Platinum Amex card, which opens the door to all kinds of status upgrades and lounge accesses. It also instantly made me a 'somebody' - in my own mind.

Train from Flusherville to Toronto, Business Class. Stay in Toronto overnight. I found a hotel that I can use points for and that you can actually walk to from Terminal 3. The Four Points by Gum.

This totally takes the stress out of taking the train to Toronto and flying the same day, all the time freaking out about whether the train will get to the plane on time.

The next day, leave around noon on United. First Class. Stop in Chicago.

In Vegas, I've rented a car. Hertz this time. Avis has fucked me around once too often. Remember the pickup truck last trip?...

I'll get the car and proceed directly to Silverton, where I will gobsmack BobbyG right in the slats. He won't know what hit him!

I'm assuming he will be glad to see me - maybe I've overplayed my hand here. We'll see.

Then I drive to the California. I love being there. Three nights comped, no resort fee. Free parking.

Then, three nights at Encore. I spent about $500. I got $25 food and $100 Freeplay and 2 show tickets. That seems like a good deal for a wonderful hotel that is walking distance to both Peppermill and Tacos El Gordo. They also make a wicked mojito.

And then my Rio offer got shifted back to no resort fee so I booked the last 2 nights there. They gutted their VP so I'll just play at Orleans and the Palms - or wherever my rental takes me. South Point for example.

I'm out on a redeye, again United First Class, so it'll be fairly comfortable. I'll land in Toronto, haul ass downtown, and catch the train back to Flusherville. Loser class, I'll be so dragged out it won't matter much.

A couple of texts came in from Jimmy Poon.

I can't get any satisfaction

I can't get a girl to react to me

Because I try, and I try, and I try, and I try

I cannot get any, I cannot get any

Hey, hey, hey!

That is the thing that I say 

 And:

You aren't anything but a hound dog

Crying all the time

You aren't anything but a hound dog

Crying all the time

Well you haven't caught any rabbits

And you aren't a friend of mine.

When they said that you were of high stature

Well, that was just a lie

Yes, they said that you were of high stature

Well, that was just a lie

Yes, you haven't caught any rabbits

And you aren't a friend of mine.

I texted him back.

Get me that trip report concept fast. I leave in 2 days. Hell, call it something hot.

Call it - Hot August Nights

I started packing for Vegas and within an hour, the AS engine had created some great artwork for the trip report. Jimmy Poon had knocked it out of the park!