A month ago, I was in Las Vegas, a few days fresh into my forties. Life seemed to be good; I was having fun and feeling some actual hope for the future. I wish I could say the same thing today, but that’s a rant for another day. 

I didn’t plan nor expect to enter my forties in Vegas. With the budget I had at the time, I thought I’d take another LA trip (and risk my well-being being potentially rattled due to that blue team being in the World Series) or just celebrate my birthday close to home (I thought about staying at an upscale hotel in SF for a couple nights). Four days before my birthday, with still no place to go, I checked out Airbnb on a whim and saw an offering I couldn’t refuse: a high-rise suite at Palms Place with strip-facing views, going for under $700 for a week’s stay during my exact travel dates. The lone catch was that the reservation was “non-refundable” and, to save all my coins, I’d have to drive what would end up being over 1200 miles for a round trip. And I had only two days to prepare for my trip. They were small prices to pay to enjoy myself, however.

Tehachapi’s rolling hills along Highway 58. 

My drive to Vegas involved an overnight stay in Bakersfield, a quick trip to the city’s Valley Plaza mall after check-out, music from 90s Riot Grrl rock bands and Megan Thee Stallion’s latest album, and lots of marveling over the desert landscape seen from Hwy 58 and 15. The weather was pleasant but so godawfully windy, no wigs would survive it. 

Making a stop somewhere in the desert. 

Highway 15 from the northbound side of Valley Wells Rest Area. 

Arriving in the Silver State…

…and, thirty minutes later, my home away from home for the next week. 

The showy, lurid skyline of Vegas greeted me six hours after I left Bakersfield. It had also been six years since I last visited the place. Vegas “post-Covid” (in quotes because I don’t think Covid is officially over yet) almost seemed like Vegas in 2018, with the exception of one thing: Presidental Election ads that I didn’t expect to see an excess of. I would like to say to drivers on the 15 North on Monday October 28, around 6:03PM: that middle finger from me was for that wretched Trump ad on the digital billboard I saw on the freeway, not for you guys, unless if you all voted for Trump too. 

I entered my Airbnb shortly after 8PM (I had a late lunch upon arriving) and chose not to leave. Not only was I tired as hell, but why would I leave this?

That blacked-out thingie in the mirror is me. Still not ready to show my face to y’all! 

Million-dollar view for under $700. Now THAT’S a birthday treat! 

Part Two coming soon!