Las Vegas is a welcomed diversion. Like usual, we are staying at a KOA. This time it's basically in a parking lot at Circus Circus. We read about this KOA ahead of time, and snorted about the possibility of staying here. It seemed sort of random and slightly hilarious, so we decided to do it.
Let's just put it this way--here at Circus Circus, we aren't really on the ritzy side of the strip. We're more on the, well, BUDGET side. In other words, it takes way more effort to get handed an "escort" trading card on this end of town than it did the last time we stayed near the MGM. It took at least three walk-bys before a dude even offered me anything...
So here's the funny story:
I sort of had it in my head that this was going to be a fun, date-like kind of stop. Sam, on the other hand, was greatly looking forward to his excellent 3Gs and the "Open-All-Year!" pool. One can imagine the togetherness that took place while wandering down the strip in 89 degree heat looking for a "fun" place to grab a beer.
You know when something looks close just because it's GIGANTIC? Well, the hotels on the strip are like that. I was completely convinced that we could casually stroll down to the Venetian, or have drinks below the Eiffle Tower in Paris. Uh. Not so much. After 45 minutes of walking, we weren't any closer to the Venetian then when we started. With a logical look on his face, Sam looked at my determined five foot frame and said, "Uh...It's still pretty far away. Didn't you say something about going to the Sahara, too?"
Well, I had. I really wanted to go to the Sahara since we had missed it last time we were in Vegas. Plus, it was just a bit north of Circus Circus, so to me, it made perfect sense to see it while we were there. After a short conversation, we decided it would be best to give up on the Venetian and head to the Sahara. After rerouting ourselves the other way, we saw the Sahara in the distance. Twenty-five minutes later, however; while out of breath and limping, we realized that we had royally screwed up. The Sahara was, well, CLOSED. Not like "We'll be back in an hour--We ran out to pick up our cousin from the drunk tank" kind of closed, but for real, like out of business, walled-up closed. Whoops!
We realized at that point we had no choice but to suck it up and trudge back to low class Circus Circus for a drink.
Now Sam and I have been to Vegas before. Normally we are intelligent enough to find our way around the casino. I don't know what it was about the damn Circus Circus, but we could not find a bar to save our lives. Fifteen minutes later when we had all but given up, we discovered a Mexican restaurant. Relieved yet parched, we climbed up on the barstools and hopefully looked over the menu. Sadly, my beer needs were not to be met. After waiting ten minutes for the bartender to glance our way (there were only five other people in there at the time!), we gave up and left. I wearily looked at Sam and expected him to hand me three bucks and instructions to barter for a Coors Lite at the 7-11, but instead, he grinned at me and said, "You know what? It will only take two seconds to grab a cab and get down the strip. Enough of this!"
Two hours after we first started our quest, we were sitting at the outdoor Strip Burger enjoying a beer mojito (yes, that's what I wrote), and burgers. They even had house-made garden burgers. Yum.
Next time you want a beer in Las Vegas, make sure to plan at least two hours in advance.