Friday, August 8th

We arrived at the Orleans at around 8:00 PM, and checked into our room after failing miserably at the $20 trick at the registration desk. The room was a 10th-floor Strip-view accommodation, significantly larger than your typical cheapo room. We were pleased to discover that the shower had a small window that you could open and yell at passers-by on the sidewalk below. Screaming “Hey, I’m naked and I have shampoo in my eyes!” just never gets old, trust me on that count.

After futzing with the air conditioner for several minutes, we came to the revelation that only the climate controls on the wall work, not the control panel on the air conditioner. Anyone who’s stayed there might pass along the sage advice that this information is printed on the air conditioner’s control panel cover; however, I would quickly reply that this particular cover was no longer one with the air conditioner, but rather propped up beside the unit.

We headed down for the seafood buffet (excellent, and all the sweeter for us having used a 2-for-1 coupon), and commenced to playing some 3-hand 9/6 Jacks or Better video poker. It had five-hand video poker as well, but we did not rally our courage enough to attempt this until the following day.

We returned to the room and prepared for bed. During this time we discovered that closing the curtains to block out the lights from the Strip meant also blocking the air flowing from the AC (which is not an option in August in Las Vegas), so it was a little bright at night for our tastes. However, it was cool seeing the New York, New York faux skyline during the seven hundred times that I generally get up during the night to pee.

Restful slumber eluded us: the bed was hard, and the pillows were wafer-thin, the sort of pillows I imagine one is issued in prison. Also, we discovered that some manner of insect had feasted on us both during the night. In all, sleeping at the Orleans is much like a camping trip.

Saturday, August 9th

We arose fairly early and left a note for the housekeeping staff for a couple of extra pillows and, proof positive that tipping yields results, they were on our bed by the time we returned to the room.

We made our way to the Orleans breakfast buffet (again, quite good, though the bacon sucks; however, another 2-for-1 coupon lessened the sting). We played some more 3-hand video poker; I tried out 5-hand video poker and discovered how quickly one can lose in this mode. A couple of quads were my salvation, and we retreated to the safety of the 3-hand variant of the game. We decided that since we’re in Vegas, it would be not only acceptable but encouraged to begin drinking before noon, so had a couple of mimosas. As per tradition, April could not make her way through the drink.

We caught a cab to the MGM Grand, whereby the cab driver pointed out the semi-secret parking garage entrance to the Monorail, which saved us countless footsteps throughout our trip. We then took the Monorail (which, by the way, we love despite its checkered past) to the Sahara, and caught a cab to the Stratosphere to cash in on the $200 free-play they advertise as part of their players club. However, what they fail to list in their many, many ads is that you don’t get this upon sign-up as you would with many/most places, but rather doled out at various increments as you play and rack up points. We didn’t fall prey to their scam; instead we went to the bar and played a little bar-top video poker and had a couple of bloody maries. They were not only very good (and we are aficionados of the bloody mary), but the bartender was a credit to his profession and was quick at bringing me refills. Plus, I was able to finish April’s, as she was unable to do so herself.

Somewhat discouraged with the futility of our trip to the Stratosphere, we took a cab back to the Hilton. We attempted to stop by our favorite bar, Quark’s, but as the Star Trek convention was going on at the Hilton Convention Center, there was no getting anywhere close to Quark’s; the line was huge. We instead entertained ourselves by playing some 9/6 Jacks or Better video poker. We were happy to note the Hilton doing the socially responsible thing to cut down on the number of arrests for public drunkenness of patrons leaving the casino; drink service came by about once an hour, and this was on the dollar machines. I can only imagine how dry were the throats of those on the nickel slots…

While walking around the Hilton, standing in the aisle among the slot machines talking with a lady was none other than Walter “Chekov” Koenig from the original Star Trek series. I was crass enough to ask him if I could take a quick picture with him; he refused, stating that people pay big money to have their picture taken with him. I told him I understood, and walked away all the more comfortable in my opinion that the original Star Trek was the worst series of the franchise.

After we had put through what we deemed a respectable amount of coin-in, and April had played a bit of 7-hand video blackjack (much like me, it makes her angry, yet she loves it nonetheless), we took the Monorail to the Bally’s/Paris station. We each had a Tom Collins while playing some bartop video poker (8/5 paytable, but we still ended up with only a cumulative $5 loss, not a bad price to pay for a couple of drinks). After I finished April’s drink, we walked to the Planet Hollywood and bought a shot glass for our collection, which was broken before we even packed for our return trip home.

With a bit of time to kill, we stopped into Trader Vic’s, to which we’ve never been. With all due respect to the original, we discovered that the waitstaff have a far higher opinion of their establishment than was merited by the frat-boy and aging yuppie clientele. We shared a tiki bowl, during which point I ate a petal off the orchid floating in the middle for shock value. I also had a sling, which was quite tasty.

For supper, we partook of the Spice Market Buffet. Having been to it back in its Aladdin days, I was skeptical as to whether the quality would carry over under the new regime; it turned out that my fears were in vain. It was the best food we had during our trip.

We caught a cab for Caesar’s Palace. We stopped into the Forum Shops and made the requisite stop at Fat Tuesdays, then with jumbo drinks in hand, we headed for nearby toy store FAO Schwartz (alcohol is a necessity when dealing with small children). We had heard a rumor that they had a juice bar that was modeled after the Star Wars cantina, something we wanted to verify prior to our December trip with April’s brother, who is a huge Star Wars fan. Alas, like all good things in Vegas, it had closed down. We played a quick game of air hockey, in which April’s poor skills but great luck garnered a victory for her. For some reason, I cannot seem to win a game of air hockey in Vegas, as proven at the Luxor during a prior trip.

We made our way to the theater for the Jerry Seinfeld performance. He’s no Carrot Top, but the show was quite good. The theater, however, was hot, which diminished the enjoyment a bit. Plus, we had the poor fortune of being seated directly in front of people who:

a. Apparently learned how to whisper in a helicopter, and

b. Should have been given their drinks in sippy cups, as at least three people in the party managed to drop their drinks during the performance

After the show let out, we went to hail a cab back to our hotel. On a Saturday night. After a big show just let out. After seeing the length of the cab-stand line at Caesar’s, we thought we’d be clever and make our way to Bill’s across the street. Unfortunately, we were not alone in that notion. Likewise the Flamingo. As we were by that point so close to the Monorail depot, we picked up the Paris/Bally’s line to MGM Grand, where the line for a cab was shorter (though by no means short) and made our way back to the Orleans to crash.

Sunday, April 10th

We were originally going to head to the Mirage for their Cravings champagne brunch, but awoke feeling buffeted-out, so decided we’d just grab a bagel at the little coffee shop in the Orleans, then proceeded to play some more 3-hand video poker. Other than the discomfort of the beds (and the infestation of biting insects), we did like the Orleans, and wouldn’t mind playing enough to potentially get some comp offers. Over the course of our stay three of our cab-drivers mentioned that they too like the Orleans (one of whom said it was his favorite place to be); if the locals are that enthusiastic about a place, you know it’s got to have something going for it.

We hung out by the pool for awhile, wondering at the source of the stench that occasionally wafted through the area. It was more rank than an ocean beach, but not quite as rank as a septic tank explosion. Most curious indeed.

We showered and got changed, made a quick stop into Big Al’s Oyster Pub for oyster shots and an appetizer platter, then caught a cab to the MGM Grand, where we stopped into Rainforest Café for an exotic drink (I am proud to report: April finished hers!) and another appetizer to tide us over until our evening festivities.

We took the Monorail to the Hilton and did some further gambling, periodically checking the lines at Quark’s Bar. Finally we decided to brave the crowds; fortunately the line moved quickly. With my wonderful meal, I had a mini Warp Core Breach and a mini Borg Sphere; don’t let the “mini” prefix fool you, however – I was feeling the effects well before the meal was over. April accused me of being drunk, which never fails to piss me off, especially when it’s true.

The costumed characters were out in full force that evening harassing the patrons. We were able to get several of them to record a message for April’s brother, who in addition to his Star Wars fandom is also a Star Trek fan, who will be unable to make it to the Experience before it closes on September 1st. On an editorial note, I will sorely miss Quark’s Bar – I have ended up drinking there every night during past Vegas trips, and it has become the keystone of Vegas visits. It’s the kind of place that you can always strike up a conversation with the person sitting next to you, and continue the discussion over several drinks. I can only hope to see the Star Trek Experience (and equally as importantly, Quark’s Bar) open elsewhere in Las Vegas; it would certainly draw throngs of Trekkies (Trekkers: get over yourselves) to a location such as Downtown.

After a bit more video poker, we caught the Monorail to the Sahara, and from there we ventured across the street to the place touted as the World’s Largest Gift Shop, the Bonanza, where we picked up some generic Las Vegas-branded souvenirs (including more shot glasses for our collection). We returned to the Sahara, and as we had a bit of time to kill, did some wandering around. I have to say, it exceeded my expectations; I anticipated something similar to the Stratosphere (the term “slumming” leaps to mind), but it was actually quiet nice. I’m not sure if this is a result of the recent change in ownership, or it’s just one of those places that’s easy to overlook with all the Strip’s glitz and glamour. We stuck around long enough to have a couple of drinks and play the new low-limit blackjack games with the full-sized video screen dealers that look around creepily while dealing (glances which might have been a little more poignant were there more than just us at the console).

Our final stop of the day was Palace Station for the Habitat for Humanity charity auction hosted by Robert “Holographic Doctor” Picardo, who actually sat at our table and discussed the merits of his seersucker suit. He was funny, engaging, and very approachable (though I did not repeat my social gaffe by asking if I could have my picture taken with him). Garrett “Ensign Kim” Wang, also from Star Trek Voyager, was a surprise guest. Also appearing were an Elvis impersonator, a remarkably bad ventriloquist (although, much like mimes, I refuse to believe that there exists such a thing as a “good” ventriloquist), and one of the main reasons we came, Alien Warrior Comic (a costumed stand-up persona portrayed by the actor who also plays ChuroQ at the Star Trek Experience). While the night was long and we were exhausted when we left, we did manage to walk away with a couple of Star Trek commemorative plates for which we paid too much (but at least have a story to accompany them).

We caught a cab back to the Orleans, and got too little sleep.

Monday, April 11th

We arose, quickly packed, and took a cab to the Hilton, where we proceeded to have the slot club desk attempt to summon a casino host for us so we could see what our gambling had earned us in comps. The woman at the counter picked up the phone and got through to Tad, about whom we had heard good things (we considered ourselves lucky to have eluded Gloria, about whom we have heard almost nothing but horrible reports). The slot club attendant handed me the phone; I was a bit put off by the fact that Tad couldn’t be bothered to come down and speak to us in person, but perhaps he has some manner of Phantom of the Opera-esque disfigurement that causes him to be more of a phone person than a glad-hander.

I asked how many points it would take to get to the next tier of the slot club; he hesitated, and said that we currently had 68 points… and that it would take 2900 to get to the next level. Shocked, I stammered, “I guess video poker isn’t the way to get to the next tier, huh?” He agreed, but stated he did have our figures in front of him, and saw the time we had put in and our theoretical losses. I told him that we would be returning in December, and asked how much more play it would take to start accruing comps; I was delighted when he informed us that he would be able to comp our rooms in December, and offered us a couple of breakfast buffets as well. The Hilton breakfast buffet’s bacon rocks, but when you’re eating it for free, it’s just that much better.

After our comped breakfast, we decided to play a final round of video poker and video blackjack. We went and did some souvenir shopping in the Promenade section of the Star Trek Experience, and hoped to be able to get in on a final round of drinks at Quark’s before departing for the airport, as it would be our last opportunity to do so before it closed for business. However, a fairly large line had formed prior to Quark’s even opening, and we didn’t want to risk missing our plane. We stopped long enough for April to play some of her lucky slot machine, Avalanche, and headed to the airport for our return home.