At 6 am, my mother and I left our Amarillo hotel room in the same clothes we wore (and slept in) the day before. You can judge us, but we decided not to bother with bringing in our suitcase because the longer we stayed outside, the more opportunity some backwoods hillbilly had to murder us. Sorry, if you’re from Amarillo, and maybe it’s actually a lovely place to grow up, but all I’ve seen is one of your hookers, 3 of your Marriots, a Japanese steak house that looked suspiciously like a strip club, and the worst Whataburger I’ve ever been to.
Then there was driving. Then there was Vegas. Thanks to a $20 bill slipped to the front desk lady at Caesar’s Palace, we were upgraded to a suite, which helped me develop my new definition of success: having a TV in the bathroom.
On Day 6:
Happy hour hopping with my mom.
We made a stop at the Palm’s Steakhouse. For a classy joint with some bomb-ass sliders, they have a pretty tacky decor situation. This covers their walls:
Meanwhile…
We saw “Peepshow” with Coco T, which marks the second time I’ve seen “Peepshow” (with Holly Madison), so my self esteem should be a lot lower than it is. All I’ll say about Coco is boobs, and also she is a national treasure and a delightful dancer/entertainer.
FINALLY, FINALLY:
Day 7:
We drove the last 4 hour leg to LA to my apartment…. excuse me, TOWNHOUSE, yes, TOWNHOUSE, which idk if you know, means that our bedrooms are UPSTAIRS, and we have a lemon tree next to our front door so we are living The California Dream. Basically, I’m living the California Dreams theme song music. *Surf dudes with attitudes.*
PS Big thanks to the best mom in the world, SUGALYN, for going on this trip and spending 16 hours a day in a car with me, and footing the bill. And dad for also footing the bill, and fitting all my stuff into a corolla.