It was our final day in Vegas, and we had a lot of work to do.
This was by far the most exhausting of any of the days we had planned.
Partly because we've been burning the candle at both ends for two days, and partly because we just had a lot on our plate.
We spent most of our down time trying to track down water. I don't know whose bright idea it was to gather people in the middle of the desert and then not have water readily avaialable.
They would bring it out occassionally but then take it away. We were all parched! Our lips were cracking and we felt like we were going to shrivel up and blow away.
Somehow we survived, packed up our gear and headed to the airport.
When we got there I had $1 left in my wallet, and I decided to do what any reasonable person in Vegas would do... see if I could turn it into more money!
I plopped down at a slot machine and slid the last money I had with me into the one armed bandit.
Dink... Dink... Dink... Dink... I had four credits and it was time to go.
I decided to bet one credit at a time so I could extend my play, and I also decided to grab the arm instead of pushing the buttons. I'm guess I'm just old school that way, and it seemed to work.
Within a few pulls I was up $3! I know it's not a lot but at least I was winning something right?
By then the Cheerleader and my photographer had come over so I decided to bet it all... ok well not all... but I did bet the maximum credits until I managed to blow my winnings.
After 3 days, I'm leaving Vegas penniless, exhausted, with a broken phone in my purse and no communication with the rest of the world.
But isn't that how Vegas stories are supposed to end?
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