Last Thursday was the big trip to Las Vegas with Grandma. My aunt made all the travel arrangements since I have a tendency to book flights based on reputable airlines and their convenient departure times because I deplore the disruption of my circadian rhythm. My aunt however, found a smoking deal on some airline I had never heard of. I decided it would be in my best interest to refrain from googling their fiery crash verses successful landing statistics prior to takeoff. My optimism prevailing, I went ahead and spray tanned because Grandma is hot and I did not want her hogging all the attention in Vegas. I packed a suitcase of hand sanitizer and penicillin and went to pick up my aunt the next morning.
My thoughtful and extremely generous aunt promptly bequeathed me with vibrator. Awkward? Perhaps. I had never even considered shopping for someone else’s vagina. But my feelings of discomfiture quickly disappeared when I put a picture of Mike’s new backup quarterback on facebook and some of my sluttier friends quickly informed me that my aunt gave me the “Cadillac of Vibrators”. Sweeeeet. What I didn’t realize was that my new wonder wand was actually an omen from the Universe warning me that I was indeed about ready to fuck myself. Oblivious to the symbolic foreshadowing, I shoved the thing in the glove box and we went to get Grandma.
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Sweet, frail, little Grandma finished a couple cigarettes to calm her nerves before we got on the highway to go to the airport. After watching her struggle with the door handle for a minute I asked if she needed some help getting in. She informed me that I could help her by “getting the fuck out of her way.” I smiled and asked her if she remembered to turn on her electric fence and automatic sprinklers in case a young child attempted to step on her lawn while she was away. She just snorted.
I am paranoid and suspicious which is puzzling since I have never smoked pot. Subsequently, I require frequent reminders from the Universe to sustain my belief of a higher power. God plays jokes on me all the time and I think it is pretty funny. Years ago, God arranged for me to see a deer whenever I find myself in stressful situations as a reminder to just chill baby, everything is handled. And every time it happens, I instantly relax. *Except for the time God used his powers and arranged for me to almost be impaled by a deer, personally I thought He took our joke a little too far. I drove into the parking garage at Denver International Airport and parked in the only open spot, directly under a sign with a picture of a deer. Shit.
Inside the airport, we were promptly and unapologetically informed that our flight was canceled and we needed to wait in line to receive a refund. There was a flight for Vegas leaving later that night but Grandma grumbled “Ahhhhh, I don’t want to wait. I don’t know how long I have to live goddammit. I just want to gamble. Let’s go to Blackhawk.” *Blackhawk is Colorado’s version of Las Vegas sans any attractive human beings and an overwhelmingly abundance of human livers wrought with cirrhosis. Sooooo while we waited in line I made a few phone calls and managed to get us the only remaining room in the entire town which happened to be a smoking/pet friendly room. Truthfully I would have preferred to model bikinis under fluorescent lighting in front of Matt Damon but my grandma was T-H-R-I-L-L-E-D. We waited in line for three and a half hours then proceeded to sit in traffic for approximately two more until we arrived in Blackhawk.
We stepped into the hotel elevator along with a hugely obese woman toting an oxygen tank and her toothless husband. Grandma waved an unlit cigarette in her hand and said “I am sorry but this old lady needs a smoke!” The woman laughed and cackled “Hell, we don’t care light ‘er up!” Okay, it is abundantly clear that some of us are definitely frontrunners to the “finish line of death” but others of us would prefer to not blow up on a fucking elevator. My aunt and I exchanged weary glances.
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We checked into our room that reeked of smoke and cat. The lampshade was scratched, the toilet wouldn’t flush and Grandma had me crank the heat up to ninety because she was freezing. She lit up another cigarette and said “Well I have definitely stayed in worse places than this.” WTF. My aunt and I then watched in fascination as Grandma bolted from casino to casino, like a rat in a familiar maze, until we eventually ended up at a craps table. Admittedly, it is reaaaalllly easy to make me laugh but watching my Grandma gamble was the funniest thing I have EVER seen.
The poor thing can hardly even lift her arms but I will be goddamned if sista can’t throw some dice. Everyone at the table was hooting and hollering, we were all jumping up and down when we won $2, everyone was calling her “Grandma” and tossing chips all over the table. Several times she got up to smoke and each time she would give the dealer a big old lingering hug. My aunt winced and I bit my lip waiting for security to come busting out of the walls to tackle her ass but it never happened. Everyone.Loves.Grandma. If the government was really smart they would hire grandmas to be international spies or assassins because no one would EVER suspect a fucking thing.
At around 2:30 am my aunt and I were utterly exhausted and had no choice but to pry Grandma’s fingers off the penny slots and drag her up to the room kicking and screaming. We opened the door and a smoky heat wave bellowed out. I put on my pajamas and was about to crawl into bed when Grandma realized she forgot her toothbrush. I sleepily threw on a hat and ran down to the front desk to get her one. I got back in the elevator and was immediately accosted by a drunk, unemployed linebacker who wanted me to get in his car and drive to another casino with him. Yeah fucktard. That’s gonna happen.
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Seriously God? Now I am going to get raped as the cherry on top? I looked at the giant dumbass standing next to me and said “This place has really changed since the last time I was here.” “How so giiiiirl?” “Well, they put cameras in ALL the elevators. It is pretty crazy how much security they added.” I waved and smiled at the ceiling. He looked at me suspiciously “Nuh-uh seriously yo?” I nodded “Oh yeah, you can’t get away with anything.” He backed up, said something presumably intelligent and left. I got to the room, handed Cheech her toothbrush and hopped in bed with my aunt.
The next day I went home, showered, showered, slept, showered and had a lung transplant. My sister called me a few hours later and said she had just stopped by Grandma’s house. Grandma told her “the night was an absolute gas and she had not had that much fun since Grandpa died!” I pretty much love my family more than anything in the whole wide world. XO
I am a writer, parent, and generally loose in the world. Yes, I meant what I said. Whatever. I handled it.
