Faded Glory

I'm happy to report that pool season officially begun on Saturday. After a long day of yard work and cleaning house, I jumped in for a refreshing swim. At 83-degrees the water had a slight chill, but it was just what I needed after a day of excessive heat. So the weathermen said, anyway, I thought it was quite nice.

Saturday evening we met friends at the Hofbrauhaus for dinner and drinks. I had their Summer Ale and jager schnitzel or something close to that. It was a pork cutlet in a mushroom sauce with bacon and shoestring onions. It was tastier than past meals I've had there, but I cannot see returning. Any way you slice it, it is overpriced. A hot dog is $14 and it's not Kobe, either. Still the company was good and beers flowed. A Jager wench also made rounds. $5 gets you a shot and a spank. The table next to us went through a bottle buying shots for them and everyone nearby. The wench seemed to take a light hand with the ladies, but for the majority of the men, she used a heavy hand. That crack echoed through the beer garden and silenced everyone. I couldn't help but wonder how much she gets paid to beat people. And what do you suppose she tells people when they ask what she does for a living?

After dinner, we moved the party over to Ellis Island. It was more economical and we were ready to re-live the days of our youth. We went to the lounge for Karaoke. It was a regular haunt and source of entertainment for the first year we lived in Vegas. We'd meet friends after work, drink $1 EIBs and eventually end the night at Club Platinum, a sleazy strip joint. Some nights Frank and crew had the luxury of drinking on the house, because drinks were free for casino employees during the early morning hours.

Saturday night we wound back the clock. Hefes flowed and rounds of the worst tequila on hand were ordered. I resisted the urge, if you can imagine that? I wanted to keep the enamel on my teeth-thanks! Karaoke was worse than I remember it, I believe it would have required copious amounts of alcohol to make it better or at least higher octane booze than I was drinking. Elvis kicked off the night. Who knew he lives at Ellis Island? He sang a few times - Lucky us! We made friends with him later in the night. He occasionally goes by Vinny, but shhh! don't tell Elvis.





As Karoke wrapped up, we went over to Club Platinum. It hasn't changed a bit. Still the trashy hole it's always been. Good times, however. Walking back to Ellis Island, I tripped over my stupid shoe that had been giving me grief all night. My brilliant idea was to wear slip-on sandals since it was hot. I'm usually really good about wearing sturdy comfortable shoes - I have bad ankles, my right one is particularly bad... three injuries in 5 years, but I went with these cheap ass ones from Walmart by Faded Glory (gotta love the irony). I took a good tumble and got up with a limp. We headed straight home and I hoped some ice and rest overnight would leave me in good shape.

However, I was in a world of hurt when I got up Sunday morning, with pain shooting up the back of my leg. I couldn't pull my weight on it to walk. I knew I needed an x-ray. I didn't hear it pop like past sprains so I feared the worst and started reliving the nightmares of my broken ankle, my souvenir from our first trip to Mexico. I laid in bed for a couple hours waiting for Frank to wake. I told him I needed a trip to Urgent Care.

Fortunately, we beat the rush and didn't have to wait long to see a doctor. But the doctors that work on Sundays are a real treat. A unique bunch, all in all. Thankfully, I showed no signs of breaks or fractures. I simply had a sprain. I was so relieved. I couldn't imagine a cast for 6 weeks spanning a Vegas summer. I had only swam once (the day before-the season couldn't be over already), I thought of all the concerts and shows we have planned and our trip to Seattle and Vancouver is next month. If I were able to jump for joy over the sprain, I would have. I'm a pro at the RICE routine and I've learned in the past that over doing it, does no favors. Rest is really best. So, I've been taking it easy. It was nice for an hour or two on Sunday. Especially after all the go-go-go over the last few weeks, but then I was bored and I quickly recalled how I hate sitting idle. I'm already over my gimpiness.