As much fun as my solo dining experience was on Wednesday night, I was up for some dinner and conversation yesterday so I got ballsy and asked a someone out of a date. Sort of. I'm mean I'm married and she's married, but hell, we were two women at a marketing conference who kinda sorta know one person in common. What did I have to lose?
We ate at Wolfgang Puck's Trattoria Del Lupo, where a French waiter served us Italian goodies like wine, salad and a four cheese and prosciutto pizza. Then Theresa marched me over to the craps table and convinced me to throw away $20 on a little gambling. Between craps (which I still don't fully understand) and Blackjack, which I do (I mean, yes, I can count), I ended up doubling my money and walking away with $40!
Oh, and have I mentioned the people watching in Las Vegas? Where else in the world can you see hundreds of black-clad goth girls with asymmetrical haircuts (Paul Mitchell stylist convention) elbowing alongside the a bunch of slow-walking, slow-talking middle-aged white guys with oversized hats and belt buckles (MacDon agricultural equipment dealers)? I spotted a bridal party, some Harley toughs, extended families playing poker and a surprising number of crashed out babies dozing in their strollers as their mamas sucked down foot-tall frozen cocktails. Yes, there is no open container law in Vegas. Or dress code. Or taste, for the most part.
But there is excellent food, and for that reason I'm glad I'll be coming back next month.
