Vegas, Baby

(I got 9 minutes 52 seconds left on the internet cafe after printing my boarding pass home.  Let's see what I can write.)

My flight out was at 12:30 yesterday.  A friend was meeting me at 11:00 to drive me to the airport.

AT 10:00, I started packing.

At 10:03, I realized I didn't have a suitcase.  Perhaps it was downstairs in my storage locker.  I ran downstairs, opened the locker.  No suitcase. 

Damn.  It must be in real storage cage.  (The one I pay for.  A few blocks away.)  I have my keys (needed them to check the locker in the garage), so I might as well drive down there real fast and get my suitcase. 

On the way, I realize I don't have my driver's license.  I resolve to drive REALLY safely for the five blocks. 

I get there.  I type in my code for access to the facility.  It won't let me in.

Perhaps I've reversed a couple digits in the number of my cage.  I try various combinations.  None work. 

The office is open.  I will ask the nice lady at the office to give me the number of my unit.

It dawns on me that she might not do this, as I DO NOT HAVE ANY ID.

Turns out, she did it anyway.  Didn't even ask for proof I was me.  Volunteered the number of my unit on my name only.  She then asked me if I needed my security code, as though she was willing to go ahead and tell me that, too.  Was a bit concerned about the level of security at this place if they'd give me my unit number AND THE CODE based solely on me saying I was me.  Was more grateful that I got my suitcase and was able to get packed.

Made it to the airport fine.  Flew to Vegas.  Folks picked me up at the airport.  Whole family is here for a coupla days of Vegas Fun.

Last night, we had dinner at one of the zillions of buffets, and then my sister thought we should see Second City over at the Flamingo.  So we drive to the Flamingo, find the Second City stage, and ask where the box office is.

Apparently it's on the other side of the casino.  Apparently there's a shortcut through the bathrooms.

My dad and brother-in-law split off into the men's room, the rest of us to the women's room.  Sure enough, if you go out the other side, you are in front of the box office.  We found this very amusing.

Unfortunately, it was slightly more amusing than most of the Second City show.  But they told us some guy was told to go through the bathroom for the box office, and he just walked around the sign and wondered why he wasn't there yet.  Like there was some magic rip in the space-time continuum at the Flamingo bathrooms, and that circling around the pole opens it up.

We laughed at him all night.