So, I got into Las Vegas and lugged my two over-packed cases to the bus stop and, using Google Maps I saw that I would have to walk 11 minutes to get to Circus-Circus from the Las Vegas Hotel/Convention Center 108 bus stop. Eleven minutes? I can do that! Only, it was 11 minutes in blinding, mid-afternoon, 102-degrees, Las Vegas sunshine.
Houston was right - there is something about Las Vegas that makes everything seem closer than it is. Eleven minutes became a death-march past empty loading docks and construction along Circus-Circus Boulevard.
About halfway I found a patch of shade next to a gated entry and stopped to put down my 50 lbs of luggage. I realized at that point that I wasn't sweating and after TSA made me chug the contents of my water bottle at the check-in point or throw it away, I was too spooked to refill my bottle even after disembarking at my destination. This was definitely bad news. I had a half-mile more to go, and while I could see the concrete big top of Circus-Circus in front of me, I knew it was a trick of the heat - I still had 5.5 minutes to go and I wasn't sure if I was going to make it. I removed my hat, hoping that the hot, stiff breeze flowing down the boulevard would give me at the least the illusion of cooling; no such luck. I looked to my left and saw a newspaper box; each compartment had a beautiful, naked woman of every ethnic persuasion on the cover of a booklet; scattered on the ground were business cards advertising escorts in equal states of undress. The private parts were covered with a spade or a heart - haha, because women are like playing cards!
The only person I saw was a young man in a red t-shirt from neighboring The Riviera, who had slipped through some door to throw a bag of garbage away; I noticed he didn't stay very long because before I could ask for some water he had quickly disappeared back into the bowels of The Riviera. Steeling myself for the last leg of the "walk" I shouldered my enormous bags (what the hell had I packed, anyway, bricks?!) and lurched back into the white-hot light.
I was starting to get light-headed - I had forgotten that I was prone to heat exhaustion, which made me ineligible for most jobs in Florida that required outside labor - and was wondering if whoever found me prostrate would call an ambulance or just rifle my bags for the laptop and wallet before taking off. Circus-Circus came into closer view and I saw people crossing the intersection and cars waiting impatiently at stop lights. I was almost there! At least, if I collapsed before crossing, some tourist might take pity on me and call 911 before rifling my bags and person.
Finally, finally, I made it to the door, but stopped briefly to take my hat off again and straighten myself before entering. I don't care how close to passing-out I am, I WILL look presentable when entering a high-class resort like Circus-Circus.
