Leaving Las Vegas

Last Edit February 13, 1999

The voucher for the meal goes for Burger King breakfast - Croissant - sausage and egg - hold the cheese - and a LARGE decaf coffee. No guilt.
So there!
My mood, after three whole hours of sleep at Days Inn on voucher is not improved.
My son, wakened with a collect call, should be on his way to school.
I have taken care of my motherly duties.
I arrive at gate B9, having slept in room 110 and having 711 breakfast (number games), to find NO PLANE.
This does not bode well.
My eyes are half open, my watch a possible victim I suddenly notice and I am sipping my decaf with sun in my eyes. The horizon that is visible in the dawn's early light is breathtakingly beautiful I had glimpsed some of the new hotels on the van rise in - the sphinx, etc. Lovely.
I am trying to focus my eyes.
Aha!
They've changed the gate to B10!
And a plane is nestled there.
Good.
I suggest to the attendants at the desk that they announce this as we had been issued tickets at 2:30AM and others would wander around as confused as myself.
They do this.
My rose is slightly the worse for wear, slightly worn on the edges and has dropped 1-2 petals. It is doing better than I am.
The flight crew, as they board the plane, is entirely too cheerful.
I am not.
I have to fly back, find my car, drive down 101 from San Fran to home, passing work, then 237 and 880 to Fremont.
I need to check the house, the animals, the mail.
My skin wants softened water. My face wants its medication. I want a toothbrush as I have lost mine.
I am wearing the last of the sun block.
My body wants Medifast - I had the last pouch at 3AM.
I have a 1PM meeting.
Oh good.
On top of this, my truck is low on gas my having been in a rush and knowingly parked it on fumes.
I am wearing clothes today - you just needed to know that didn't you?
My slip, with straps lowered, as an emergency nightgown.
My spare pair of panties sporting Medifast dust because I had cleaned my camera off with them and a scarf in the train station (Penn Station) (Janice did not miss a beat) are shook out and on. So I am chocolate flavored today.
I never travel without a spare pair of loose panty hose.
The black body suit is back in place.
My hair is long and straight - having hosed it while figuring out the shower at 3AM.
My face, as I said, has sun block (never go anywhere without it) eyeliner (ditto) and lipstick.
This is as together as I intend to get.
Until I have gas (well, I do after that breakfast - just not in the truck) and my medication (no - I did not bring the bottles as per usual - it was supposed to be a 1-day trip) this is as functional as I am going to get.
My watch must be in my luggage somewhere. Naked without one, I put on the other - the new one. I have four of these Times watches in various stages of repair and wear. The one I lost has a large battered face. I hope I find it - won't cry if I don't. The new one is a gold bracelet type which must be taken in because I lost weight.
Won't keep the weight off eating at Burger King!
My coffee is down but my tail bone is tired of plane seats and hard chairs. It made itself clear about that last night.
So much for jury duty.
Time to discuss permanent health excuses.
Something about giving birth to large children.
I am old enough.
I am also getting pretty brazen.
I now board with first class.
Period.
I am old and slow.
Of course, today I get challenged.
I look him dead in the eye and state "I am slow. I am 57. I am post-op."
They let me in.
I don't look my age.
Even today?
Even in this condition?
They've been in the Nevada sun too long!
But it's a good thought.
When I board the flight attendant (who likes roses - as most women do) is far too chipper.
I may have to hit her.
As we finally back out, I notice a lonely piece of luggage on the tarmac.
So does the guy with the guidelights.
A tram trundles up to rescue this lost traveler. How luggage gets lost. I'm glad I am packing mine.
I now have a headache.
My decongestant and nasal spray are in California. Where I wish to be. I can barely breath. My eyes are draining.
I am a mess.
A very pissed off, crabby old lady.
Will be.
All day long.
Pity the poor publicity people if I get to a phone!
And tomorrow I face the last of the Boy Scout Eagle project.