As I was recounting, the nature of our Las Vegas vacations has changed drastically of late. As Katy Perry sings: “That’s what you get for waking up in Vegas!”
Except I’m not sure her lyric was implying that “waking up in Vegas” entailed: waking up refreshed (from hitting the hay at 10p the prior night); well-hydrated (from slamming back liters of water prophylactically and begging off the booze) and wearing gym clothes (because we’d selected the hotel based on its fitness center and intended to work out every morning first thing).
Las Vegas 2009, with friend. Sinking our teeth (and our livers) into the role of debauched day drinkers/Dionysian daredevils
Pictured: the treacly $18 margarita-filled Eiffel
Other highlight of the ’09 trip: Upon friend’s insistence, we went to L’Atelier de Joël Robuchon. I’m afraid the subtleties of the $300 tasting menu were mostly lost on us after the $18 Eiffel-arita.
No Las Vegas trips of 2010 or 2011 for me. Then! Dividing line: by the next time I went back, it was with Deepak.
Las Vegas, 2012: Notice anything? Well, we are mostly sober, and had just come from a rejuvenating gym workout. New priorities!
I’m only pretending to gamble
This version doesn’t cost €80 like it does in Italy!
No Las Vegas trips in 2013, either. Now we are at present day.
The new conversation at check-in: “Excuse me, what are the hours of your fitness center? Do you have ample kettlebells and a wide selection of med balls?”
Sure, there were temptations …
The apogee of sophistication!
… But we shunned them for other attractions. (Here, Deepak hears the pitter patter of bargain-clad feet at the Carter’s store in the outlet mall)
It was 115°, but who said it wasn’t a good time to avail ourselves of piping hot coffee (free refills)?
We did enjoy the holiday sights (it was Independence Day)
I toyed with the idea of buying something appropriately flashy, but the specter of my emesis basin-filled youth prevailed
Spotted some stars
Scoped some odds (again, ultimately the wallet stayed unopened)
One splurge! The fabulous pan roast at Palace Station Oyster Bar
Good thing we hit the Caesars Palace faux-Trevi, because when we went to Rome this summer the original was drained and closed for repairs! There is also another Las Vegas faux-Trevi in the Fendi store in City Center, so who even needs the Eternal City original?
Our new Vegas: posing in front of design elements we like so that we may make visual notes for decor ideas in our next house. (Side note: My Las Vegas sartorial aesthetic of “fabrics to see the folds of my small intestine through” remains constant throughout the years.)
In the epicenter of indulgence, we debated design choices: “I like the polished vitrified finish but I’m not sure about the seams. We need to come back under different light conditions to compare.”
Ever striving for the gravity-defying exuberance of this mannequin at the gargantuan Forum Shops H&M
This adorable tot was the exclamation at the end of the sentence: “We are no longer the target audience for debauchery in Las Vegas”
Oh, but I spoke too soon! When we flew back to LAX, our flight got in late so we were able to hit the airport-adjacent Japanese bar we like. They only start serving ramen and offering deeply discounted pitchers and sake after 11p, but we are usually in REM cycle 3 by then so we never go. But look who’s getting crazy now!
Indeed, we went absolutely wild.