Las Vegas

Editor's note: This is Marty's attempt to summarize his Las Vegas trip. He made it as far as landing in the city. Haha. Anyway, he left it up on the computer, and my guess is that he'll never get back to it before the trip was, like, forever ago. So I just published it for him , without his permission. Oh, the scandal.


Hello again shoppers!

We are not the best bloggers over here, but I thought I'd sit down and give ya'll a taste of what Mega-Mart is up to.

First up, I thought I'd spice up the woefully factual tales of Las Vegas that Caleb told over on his blog.

I left for Heathrow straight from work. I was excited about leaving and probably could have waited a bit to go, but the sooner I was on the way to the airport the sooner I could let the vacation mindset take over. I rode the tube, blissfully tapping my foot along with a good mix of The National, LCD Soundsystem, Of Montreal, with a dash of Flight of the Conchords to keep me smiling. I arrived at O'Hare with with time on my side and started poking around for the Delta terminal. I couldn't find it on any of the airport signage, but the tube information desk put me on the path to terminal three.

After a wandering through half finished hallways, and up barely marked stairwells I arrived at terminal three departures. The last stairway opened up to an outdoor concourse with a massive monitor displaying departures lording over the airport throng. I scanned The Big Board for my departure time and came up empty. I double checked it, to make sure I was using military properly (which I was) and starting running through where I might have lost the thread. Had the tube information desk told me the wrong terminal? I busted out the Blackberry to dig out my confirmation email, verified the time and that I was on Delta... leaving from Gatwick airport. F***.

London has several airports that keep it bustling. Most trans-Atlantic flights leave from Heathrow, but if you buy a cheap enough flight you just might leave or arrive in Gatwick. Gatwick, for those not familiar with London, is nowhere near The City, Heathrow or really any part of London. When Megan and I were coming back from Ireland and the plane started it's decent the only thing I could think was, "where are we decending to." London wasn't even visible from a mile up in the air.

I started to panic a bit. The word(s?) non-refundable kept popping into my head, and I frowned like I had to fire a sweatshop full of pregnant woman. I headed for arrivals because that would mean taxis, and taxis were my last great hope. One hour and one hundred pounds later (bye bye value trip) I was at Gatwick ten minutes before check-in closed. The airport was empty and I made my flight in plenty of time. The flight was empty as well and I had a full row to myself. I was beaming. My beams dimmed when the only two children on the flight were seated in front of me. Their parents slept like babies, while the actual kids ran wild for eight hours. I sometimes wish I could hit other people's kids, or at least slap the parents of kids like these. Then I transfered, then Las Vegas.

Las Vegas, the city of lights!