On Tuesday, the first FULL day of our Las Vegas trip, my lovely bride had to register for her conference first thing in the morning. After that she hung her poster in the presentation room. I have to brag on her here. She is becoming a nationally recognized stroke expert and nurse education expert as well. Her poster was selected for presentation here, so that is a pretty good feather in her bonnet. Soon we left the convention center and were off on our day's adventure. We purchased two bus passes good for the remainder of the week. Most likely our vehicle will stay safely squared away on the 6th level of the parking garage all week, as we make our way around town on the bus.
So our first mission was to go to the Premium Outlet Mall South, out on South Grand Central Parkway. I proudly held my bus pass and waited for the express bus that would take us to our destination with just a couple stops between, according to the informative sign. Our bus arrived about 11:OO AM and we were off. I have to complement Las Vegas city management. The buses were clean and mostly free of less than reputable citizens, although more about that later! Within a few minutes I had figured out (very cleverly so, I believe) that the upcoming "stop" appeared on a display screen just before the stop came up. I very happily explained this system to my lovely bride, but it appeared that she had mastered this system much sooner than had I, and was merely observing me as I tried to figure it all out. But, she pointed out, she was not laughing AT me....
I was still a little nervous about possibly missing our appointed stop, thus revealing to my lovely bride that I maybe had not mastered the system as well as I was letting on, when she explained to me that she had observed that a certain passenger was wearing a t-shirt with the logo of the Premium Outlet Mall on the front. She further informed me that she had deduced that she would be more likely to get off at the correct location if she observed this female get off the bus, since the lady had told someone in Spanish that she was on the way to "trabaja." I asked how far from Las Vegas was Trabaja. Here my lovely bride informed me that the lady had said she was on the way to "trabaja," to WORK. Then she told me again how she was laughing WITH me....
A few blocks later the bus stopped, and sure enough the lady in the gray t-shirt got out of her seat and exited the bus. I turned to my lovely bride to let her know this, when I noticed that my lovely bride was already halfway out the door. So I fell in line and we walked across a 145 degree parking lot (did I mention that once the moon sets in Vegas the temp immediately hits 125 degrees?) to the Premium Outlet Mall - South. I only point out that this was the SOUTH outlet mall because this will become relevant a little further along in this very truthful and unembellished account of the day's travel. Anyway, at a temperature of 145 degrees, ones Adidas(s) become somewhat gummy as one races across the parking lot to the 135 degree cement outside the shopping mall. Fortunately the air temperature at "nose level" has cooled to a brisk 130 degrees by the time a standing or walking person inhales. I feel very sorry for the little children who only stand a couple of feet off the ground, for they do not benefit from the cooling effect of the rising air.
Once inside the Premium Outlet Mall my lovely bride immediately heads for the Dooney and Bourke Outlet Store. Unfortunately after a short fifteen mile stroll we fail to locate said store. Finding a nearby directory sign, my lovely bride scans the map for the Dooney and Bourke Store. Guess what? There was not such a store here. Trying to be a hero, I told her that I would search the directory...but I wound up a zero since I had to report that there did not appear to be a Dooney and Bourke Outlet Store in this mall. My lovely bride said she KNEW that! Guess what? She was definitely not laughing WITH me now...in fact she basically was not laughing at all. It turned out that the Dooney and Bourke Outlet Store in question was at the Premium Outlet Mall NORTH...that is to say at the OTHER end of Las Vegas. It was here that I suggested a meal might be in order. My lovely bride agreed, because I sometimes get cranky when I go for prolonged periods without food. Plus, it was possibly MY error that had sent us to the SOUTH Premium Outlet Mall. I just saying that was a possibility, not that that was by any means a certainty. Er...ah hem.....
So after having partaken of the noon meal, we once again boarded the bus and headed North. I was proud of myself THIS time. I was able to get us off the bus at the correct stop WITHOUT the aid of an employee going to "trabaja." My lovely bride did not seem all that impressed, and really, I could hardly make a mistake since this was the last premium outlet mall in town. But, heroes are as heroes do! We made our way to the Premium Outlet Mall North and quickly made two discoveries. First, the cement temperature had now risen to 145 degrees, and second, THIS mall had outdoor sidewalks. But, regardless of those two obstacles, we made our way to the middle of the shopping center where we finally located another directory sign.
This time there WAS a Dooney and Bourke Outlet Store listed on the map, and lucky for us, it appeared to be only about a four mile hike from our present location. But my lovely bride was undeterred now. A Dooney and Bourke purse awaited her. So we headed off in the direction indicated. Only a couple of hours later...I mean only about five or ten minutes later (time seems to crawl when the temp is over 150 degrees) we arrived at the Dooney and Bourke Store. And we were in luck: All the purses in most of the display areas were 40 percent OFF! My lovely bride was elated. I had a more somber view, thinking to myself that even 40 percent off the average D and B purse left a balance of three to five hundred dollars!
We entered the Dooney and Bourke Store and my lovely bride, forgetting the seared flesh at the tops of the soles of her shoes, began shopping in earnest for a new Dooney and Bourke purse, and possibly one or two accessories (also forty percent off) to go with the purse. After all, what is a purse (even a Dooney and Bourke purse) with no accessories? I simply stayed out of the way, offering an "ooh" or "ah" as appropriate when my lovely bride showed me this or that purse. And wallet. And smaller purse. And smaller wallet. And finally something even SMALLER than a wallet that apparently went INSIDE the wallet which then went inside the purse. And one could mix or match colors and patterns as one desired. And the beauty of it was that all of this was 40 percent OFF!!
While my lovely bride was thusly engaged (and I was standing VERY out of the way) an elderly couple walked in. The female of the couple went immediately to a very LARGE D and B purse and exclaimed over it with much exclaiming. I could understand all the exclaiming; however, for this purse looked like it would definitely hold a wallet, the little thing that went in the wallet, plus the purse that the wallet went in, plus two grandkids and a Chihuahua. And it was available in four colors and two prints. Then something unusual (at least to me) happened. The male of the couple walked over to his spouse (I am making the assumption here) and pointed out to her that the purse she was so excited about did not feature some kind or other of pocket that would make it practical. The woman said she really liked the purse but her husband INSISTED that she look at OTHER purses first. I have to admit here that I wondered to myself who was actually going to USE the purse that this lady might purchase.
Leaving the lady looking disappointed and still holding the very cavernous, but apparently pocketless, purse the husband walked to another part of the store, selected a NEARLY as cavernous purse and began examining the interior of the purse with the selective eye of a diamond buyer. He apparently found that there were a suitable number of pockets or zips in the purse and thus began an inspection of the exterior of the purse. He ran his fingers along the outer material and the leather corners. He then opened the purse once again and pulled out the included shoulder strap, apparently examining it for craftsmanship and imperfections as well. Across the way, his spouse finally surrendered the huge purse back to the display and walked to her husband, who had by now picked out three purses that he felt suited HER needs.
I was still watching this couple arguing over purses for the lady when my lovely bride announced that she had made her final selections, and what did I think of them? It was a smallish purse (by HER standards) and a small, matching wallet. I issued the appropriate "oohs" and "ahs" and said I believed they suited her well. Yes, I liked the colors. Once I would have called this color purple, but these days, for all I know the color could be called egg plant or, who knows, shale. Maybe lavender, except lighter (Shhhh...I still think it is purple). So my lovely bride took her selections to the check out, where the clerk announced that the forty percent off would be deducted "during the purchase transaction." While the clerk was still pushing buttons and the computer was whirring away, my lovely bride suddenly hit me with a surprise. "Honey, YOU are buying THESE! It's my birthday!"
Gadzooks! As a male (slower at thought than the female of the species) I was still processing the probable cost that my lovely bride would pay for the purse set, even with forty percent off when she hit me with this bombshell! But it WAS soon to be her birthday, and she loved that little ensemble so much I just could not turn her down. Plus I still had to ride all the way from Las Vegas back to Midland with her, so I thought what a great birthday gift it would be...AND it was forty percent off! So the birthday girl was pleased...but I am not so sure about the older lady. Her husband was just not letting her get the purse she wanted. I hope for his sake it was not HER birthday!
I gathered up my lovely bride's treasure and we made our way back to the bus stop. Little did we know how interesting this ride was about to become. We had to ride the bus back to the south end of the Strip so that we could meet my lovely bride's cousin for dinner in just about thirty minutes. Even with the bus stopping a couple of times we planned to be there and waiting for him. Just about this time the bus, which was stopped on a hill waiting for the red light, began rolling backward. Then it lost all power. With the power went the air conditioner. Did I mention it had just topped 145 degrees or so? The driver tried to start the engine several times, but only succeeded in vapor-locking the engine while nearly crushing a car that was stopped behind the bus.
Suddenly things got bad! A guy at the back of the bus began saying rather loudly, but with a bit of humor, "Seriously? I'm baking alive back here! You need to get the AC running again because we're(expletive) burning alive back here!"
Then as a second thought he added, "Can you let me off the (expletiving) bus?!"
A muted voice came over the public address system and said something like "the door will not be opened while the bus is disabled."
Suddenly the gentleman who used colorful but humorous language was no longer full of humor. He started walking quickly toward the front of the bus. Here I should point out that the City of Las Vegas, possibly foreseeing such situations, had coated the cockpit with thickened, bullet-proof, shock-proof to three atmospheres, and probably pressure-cooker bomb proof plexiglass. In this case, the City's wisdom proved prophetic. The now quite angry gentleman was beating on the glass and loudly (with many expletives) demanding that the driver open the door for him. The driver told the man she could not open the door for him. He turned around and said "I'll (expletiving) show you what I can (expletive, expletive, expletive) do with this (expletiving) door!" He began frantically searching around the doors presumably looking for an emergency opening switch, which apparently was not provided on this model bus.
The man then shouted, "Where are those (expletive, expletive, expletiving) removable windows at?!" Someone pointed to the front emergency exit window. I am telling the truth, the man went to the window, told someone to move out of the (expletive) way, and quicker than you could write it, was out the window and stomping away down the sidewalk, casting expletives over his shoulder at the highly relieved bus driver. Truth be known, most everyone on the bus was relieved that he was gone!
As he jumped out the window I yelled, "Have a great day, my friend!"
My lovely bride whacked me on the shoulder and said that I should not yell at him and that he was not my friend. Well, that is not exactly the way she said it but that is the general drift. She was afraid I would enrage the man who might come back and open fire on the bus. I told her that was silly, we did not know for sure that he was armed! She did not see the humor here. Plus it was about 155 degrees inside the bus now because someone had closed the emergency exit, presumably so the angry bus customer could not get back in. We sautéed and grilled in the bus for another fifteen minutes or so when suddenly the doors opened. Mind you, the bus was still without power. Apparently the bus driver really COULD open the door when the power was off. As we melted out the various exits, the driver announced that we would have to catch the next bus, which was about five minutes away.
The next bus did in fact stop to pick us up, but it was crowded beyond any pretext of capacity. It was now rush hour so the buses were crowded anyway, and now the load was nearly tripled. With no further ado we began the trek back across town. In the meantime, my lovely bride's cousin was getting a little antsy while waiting for us at local pizza house. But in a short while we were there and reunited with a cousin we had not seen in several years. There was lots of lively conversation, particularly about our lately unpleasant bus ride. After a fine dinner we went on a tour of Cousin's workplace, then it was time for him to do some homework and time for us to get back to the hotel.
It was a rather interesting bus ride after a day of shopping, but even with the troubles we had, it was still a bargain and not really that big a hassle to ride the bus around the Strip rather than to risk our car and be lost on the way to every destination, as well. And it was sure nice to get back to the hotel. We were both still recovering from the convection oven bus we had been trapped in for about thirty minutes. Surely tomorrow's adventures will be anticlimactic.
Here's to a fun day tomorrow, and Viva Las Vegas!
