In the next few weeks, I'm going to try to refocus my blog to be more Vegas-centric. After all, none of you really care about what I'm doing, but you're probably pretty curious about my city.
I arrived back in Vegas from Nebraska on Saturday evening. My boyfriend picked me up at the airport and informed me we'd have to run a few errands before making our way home. I personally hate making stops after a long day of traveling, but hey, the ride was free.
In an endless effort to make his bedroom more comfortable, he'd recently upgraded to a bigger mini-fridge, bought via craigslist.com. After a few weeks with the dutiful fridge, it clonked out. Just one of the dangers of buying appliances from a fortune teller with pink hair.
Anyway, by the time he picked me up from the airport, he'd tracked down yet another Craiglist fridge. $20 and not too far away. On our way to the address where the fridge was being held, he texted the seller to let him know we were coming. The guy acted pretty weird. "When exactly will you be here?" he kept asking after we gave him our best estimate.
"I don't know," we texted back, cutting off cabs to ensure the fridge would still be ours.
We pulled up to typical Vegas home: dusty colored and under the freeway. Soon after we realized why the guy was so concerned with our ETA. He was hammered. In fact, he had a beer in hand. In fact, he had just bought a MUCH bigger fridge himself (presumably to hold more booze), a purchase that necessitated he rid himself of his old mini model.
Only one problem: He'd mistyped the dimensions of the fridge on craigslist, and we looked at each other nervously, skeptical that this fridge would actually fit in an Acura. After 15 minutes of sweaty maneuvering that made Drunkboy set down his beer in exhaustion, we'd pretty much succumbed to defeat.
Enter secret weapon: Drunkboy's equally drunk frat bro wearing a velvet smoking robe with Palm's Resort and Casino insignia. "Why don't you just put down the front seat?" he asked.
"Oh," we said stupidly.
Needless to say, it worked. Not sure if there's a moral here, but whatever.