third day here in sin city. so out of my comfort zone. the filtration system in the hotel seems non-existent compared to other hotels here. my lungs are burning and seem to take an hour in my room before i feel they’ve de-smoked.
otherwise, it’s been an uneventful day for a change.
briefly thought about seeing one of the cirque de soliel shows, but decided to keep my money and sleep instead. two more days of meetings. only car shows i’ve seen listed are the pns cars like lambos and mazzeratis, and i don’t want to lose my parking space for them. might as well go to a showroom. not even going to the cars and coffee i usually catch on the way out of here. just want to go home.
went to another hotel for dinner. after eight p.m., and it’s still one-hundred and two degrees, cooling down to eighty in the middle of the night.
there’s a sad looking guy dressed in a tattered mickey mouse costumes on the sidewalk, i can’t imagine how he can stand it or what it must smell like in there.
there seems to also be several clusters of wanna be showgirls, half naked and befeathered out there too. some too fat, some too skinny to heve the requisite jugs; all look too harsh and tatted up to be real. just posers for pictures for cash. drunk guys will go for anything it seems.
haven’t been up and out late enough (or early enough) to see the drunk girls being led astray —
“…these pigs are ready”
- the sweetest thing
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here’s an old buick i saw the one time i made it out to lincoln park for the blessing of the cars, several years ago. don’t see many like that out there.