Holy shiat! The last several hours have been crazy with the most ridiculous wind gusts I've seen since I've been living here in Vegas. We've had gusts over 50 mph tonight, and I *know* they went even higher--I was out in it, and at one point I swear I thought my truck was going to roll over--I just put it in park, stood on the brakes with both feet, and braced my hands against the roof, waiting to get flipped over.
I am totally serious--I thought I was going to be joining Dorothy and Toto in Oz.
It had been windy all day yesterday, but as the sun went down, it clocked it's way around to the north, picking up in intensity and dropping the temperature. I was watching the news and they were saying to stay off the roads if possible, that the wind had caused a bunch of accidents around the valley already. But I had to meet Hoya and Dane over at Mandalay Bay at 7:00 pm--just how bad could it be out there?
So, I scooted out of the house around 6:15, stopped at the grocery store and picked up a bottle of wine, some Coke, a can of cashews, and a package of dark chocolate to nibble on up in the room. It was breezy, but as soon as I got out of the store, it really seemed to start to howl. And of course my truck is as about as aerodynamic as a cinder block, so as soon as I got out on the road, it took both hands to keep me going in a straight line.
It got bad once I got on the freeway--lots of dust, dirt, and debris flying around, and it was damn near impossible to stay in one lane--so traffic slowed to a crawl. Once I got past Warm Springs and next to the airport, it was like the Wrath of God was coming down to wipe Vegas off the face of the earth. It was like driving in a blizzard--total white out conditions with sand and dust--I swear I couldn't see 20 feet beyond the front of my truck as I got off at the LV Blvd. exit. It got so bad that other drivers just turned on their hazard lights and pulled over, opting to wait it out. And it sounded like my paint job was getting sandblasted the whole time, too. Not good. While sitting at a complete stop on the exit ramp, I gave Hoya a call and said that I'd probably be a few minutes late, that I was in the middle of a dust blizzard and couldn't even see the traffic light fifty yards away.
She said that it was howling like crazy on the 25th floor of the Mandalay Bay, the building was shaking, and the windows were flexing in and out, giving it an especially scary vibe up in their room.
It only took a few minutes for a few brave souls to start creeping along, so I joined the pack. Of course, as soon as I accelerated, I threw the back end of my truck out, almost causing a wreck--big torque-y engine, road slick with sand, no weight in the back...
Once I turned right onto the Strip, and caught a headwind, it was a little easier to drive, but it felt like I was pulling a heavy trailer--yes, the wind was that strong. All the palm trees in the median looked like they were about to snap off, and I could see the ground crew at the executive terminal across the fence at the airport scurrying around with chains and whatnot, trying to keep the helicopters and private jets where they left them.
When I finally got to Mandalay Bay, the adventure wasn't over. It took about ten minutes or more to climb the driveway from the street to the valet drop-off. I swear Mandalay has the *worst* valet service in Vegas, except for maybe the Rio. Anyhow, while I was sitting there, the wind really started to go crazy, and the body of my truck got lifted all the way to the stops on the suspension. Seriously, a couple more knots of wind, and I was going over the railing, landing in the bushes below. There was an SUV in front of me, and it was rocking back and forth like a boat on a mooring during a hurricane. Everybody but the driver bailed out and ran for the hotel entrance, and that's when I got just a bit scared--you see all those pictures of trains or boats piled up after a huge storm, and I could just see myself trying to dig out out of the bottom of a carnage pile like that. It was just crazy windy.
But I finally got up under the porte cochere, and it offered a bit of relief. Not much, but at least I wasn't worried about rolling my truck anymore--it was the valet's problem at that point. But it was still so windy that they had the revolving doors locked down, and the low pressure outside was sucking the other doors open. Even once I got inside, it was still blowing like stink in the lobby, but with much less garbage flying around.
I made my way to the elevator, got off at the 25th floor, and found the Hoya's suite at the end of the hallway.
And if you think the wind was bad on the ground, try 250 feet up in the air! Holy shiat it was howling. Dane had me put my hand on the window just to feel how much the glass was buckling, and I swear I thought it was gonna blow out and we'd all get sucked out like in the movies when a window breaks on an airliner.
But gifts were exchanged--they got a bottle of wine and a cd, I got a bottle of geniune NC Bar-B-Que sauce, and Kelly poured the first round of drinks. I had to avail myself of the spacious facilities, and while I was standing there in the smallest room in the entire resort, takin' care of business, it felt like my nose was running. So I grabbed some TP to wipe it up, and it turned out that I had the Mother of All Bloody Noses.
Luckily I'm not anemic or anything, and it stopped bleeding pretty fast--before I could make a mess out of my shirt or the rest of the bathroom, but I used up about a half a roll of TP trying to keep the water closet from looking like a crime scene.
I emerged none the worse for wear, and we settled in with cocktails and started catching up on all the latest news, rumors, and gossip. We lasted two rounds before getting hungry enough for dinner.
We had a lot of options available to us, but since the weather was so bad out, and the tram wasn't running, we decided to stay there at the Bay. We narrowed our choices down to the Noodle Shop and the Border Grill.
Now, I've been to the Border Grill before, and was waaay less than impressed. I thought it was an overpriced, bland Tex-Mex nickel and dime joint that Mandalay Bay is so famous for--ok food, ridiculous prices. But they wanted to go, and hey, it was their trip, so I agreed to make the best of it, just making sure to avoid the same dish I had last time I was there.
This time around, I have to say, it was *much* better. I had a marinated skirt steak with avacado and tomato salad, black beans, and some sort of sweet and sour corn salsa. It was damn good, and very tender--cooked to absolute 'prefection'. Kelly had some sort of grilled halibut in a smoky broth, and Dane had an assortment of tamales. They both had beer, but knowing that I'd need all my wits about me in order to get home later, I stuck with water (besides, I had two very generous cocktails in me already!)
So the food was excellent, the conversation was pleasant, and the view of the trees standing up to the hurricane outside was spectacular. We lingered for about an hour and a half before calling it an early night. It was only 10 pm or so, but they're on East Coast time and had to get up early in the morning. Me? I was just tired from having a full belly.
We wandered back up to the room so I could gather all of my stuff, and we said our goodbyes until summertime (hopefully). I trekked off down the hallway, still amazed at the impressive scale of Mandalay Bay. Seriously--It may not be as nice as Bellagio or the Wynn, but it's damn opulent and just plain HUGE. Whenever I walk through there, I get almost the same feeling as I do when I lie back and look at the stars--I feel small and insignificant. I'm just amazed that somebody could come up with the idea for, design, and build something so massive and so detailed. It's truly an architectural masterpiece, as far as I'm concerned.
And you know how scent triggers your memory? Well, I haven't spent hardly any time in that place since the 'original' March Madness back in 2004 when Dougie and I stayed there. So wandering around in there, smelling the perfumed air that they pipe in brought back a flood of fun memories, and it kinda got me a little more pumped up for the upcoming Madness festivities.
I got down to the valet desk and gave them my claim ticket, and there were a few people sitting on the floor of the lower lobby waiting for their cars--everyone afraid to go outside. A gal standing next to the door initiated some conversation, and told me that she was waiting for the shuttle to Green Valley Ranch.
I immediately had a dilemma on my hands of my own creation. I said, Oh, I live right up the block from there... But I'm driving, as I headed towards the outside waiting area. As I walked outside, I didn't know if I sounded rude by saying that and just walking off without offering her a ride, or if I would've sounded like some freaky pervert trying to pick up strangers at the valet stand if I would've offered her a ride...
I guess it was a no-win situation, so I just faced the other direction until my truck showed up a few minutes later.
The wind was still howling like a banshee, but it had tempered a bit. I made my way home without incident or further bloody noses. But they say it's supposed to remain windy all day tomorrow, too.
Rob took off as soon as I got home, heading for some cheap dice on the west side. So no Jeopardy tonight. I'm just chillin' here with nobody but the neighbor's angry wind chimes to keep me company.
I think I'll make myself another cocktail.
Mikey
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