Ever have those moments where one event causes a chain reaction of other events which results to one of the worst vacations ever?  This was my experience this past weekend.  Since last year, me and my family have been taking trips to Vegas on thanksgiving.  I don’t know if it’s the smell of raw sewage in the air, or all those immigrants passing out free porn, but we seem to be drawn to this city.  The Vegas trip a year ago went off without a hitch, we went there, watched Mama Mia, ate at the buffets.  So why should I think any differently this time around?  But life has a way playing tricks on you.  So instead of writing a “What to do guide” of my Vegas experience, I’m inclined to give a play by play of my weird trip.

Lately I’ve been pretty busy with my work, so although I usually plan every detail of my vacation, I ended up creating some last minute activities.  First day we would see “Jersey Boys”, the next day see the Hoover Dam and Fire Valley National Park, and then come back home.  Real simple, but maybe I should have spent some more time on my itinerary.

So I gather up  my family on November 26th, we leave at 6 am in the morning.  At around 7 am our rental cars dashboard starts to show a message about low tire pressure.  Images of our ford fusion blowing a tire, and careening off the freeway to our deaths happen to flash into my head.  And although we were making great time, I had to stop at the nearest gas station to fix the tires.  But because I’ve never pumped air into a tire before, what should have taken 5 minutes ended up costing us 1 hr.  On top of that, I believe some douche pissed all over the air pump, which left a very offensive odor.  Little did I know that the 1 hr delay would cost me my whole trip.

Nature called midway into our drive, and I had to take a number 2.  I’m always good with going when my body gives me signs, because I know if I hold it in, my shit will start to get hard and I’ll get plugged up (constipated).  But that wasn’t a problem, there’s tons of gas stations, and fast food joints all the way to Vegas.  So why did I stop at the one where some dirty redneck clogged the toilet with his giant shit?  So I held it in a little longer, I figure I’d hold it till I got to Vegas.  Not a good idea.  On top of this I ate a bad Carls Jr. Western Bacon Cheeseburger, which gave me some major upset stomach for half the day.

Things didn’t get better when we reached Vegas. We stayed at the Tropicana, which was way worse than even motel 6.  I never thought there could be a place that could be as bad as motel 6.  walking down the hallway to our room, I could smell a mixture of cigarettes, crap, and mold.  This with the combination of my upset stomach was making my tummy churn.  The only good thing about this day was the fact that the “Jersey Boys” was one of the best live shows I’ve ever seen.  It’s highly recommended, and it made me forget about my horrible morning.

As we went to bed, and woke up the next day we were preparing to head over to the Hoover Dam.  Both my wife and my mother in law have never been, so I thought I’d take them there.  The morning was actually pretty good, we had a nice breakfast at a diner in Boulder City.  And after we finished eating, I had experienced one of those days where I wish I could have my own Delorean so I could travel back and undo things.

We got to Hoover Dam, and the place was packed with tourists.  Before getting out the car, my wife and I wanted to take the camera out.  We have one of those Nikon SLR cameras that comes with multiple lenses, so I decide to take the other lens just in case we would needed it. Placing it in our camera bag, I slung it across my shoulders and we headed off.  I already realized during that time that I was having bowel troubles, and I was a little worried that it would get much worse.  I thought that maybe eating 3 full meals might be enough to generate the pressure to pop it out, so I went to the restroom.

Going into one of the stalls, I placed the camera bag on top of the paper dispenser.  I sat down and I pushed so hard that I thought I was going pop out my liver.  My head was swelling with blood, and I was getting dizzy. Imagine a women going through childbirth, and that’s exactly how I was feeling, but maybe not so bad. The Cosby Kids just wouldn’t go into the pool, and on top of that 10 minutes went by with my family having to wait for me.  So I clean up and leave quickly.

Hoover dam was Damn Beautiful, and my wife and I were having a blast taking photographic images of this man made wonder.  I posed like a Victoria Secrets model, and I danced like a leprechaun.  And after we reached the other side of the dam, my wife noticed something was missing. “Where’s the camera Bag?” she said. CRAAAAAAAAAAP!!!! : o

I was about to lose a $400 dollar lens, and I just knew that it wasn’t going to be in the restroom stall.  I asked and asked, and no one had answers.  I was losing hope, and pretty much chalked things up as being gone, the mourning process was over.  Then my wife dropped another bomb on me, she had her credit cards, drivers license, cash, and SOCIAL SECURITY NUMBER IN THE BAG!!!!!! CRAAAAAAAP!!! There’s never a time machine when you need it the most.

I think I could safely say that this is one of the worst things that could happen on a vacation.  If we never got delayed that 1 hour, if that red neck never clogged the toilet, if I could have just had more fiber in my diet. A lot of what ifs filled my mind, but what’s done was done. Things were a bit gloomy on that drive back home, but it wasn’t that bad.  I tried to be positive, and I knew that this is only one bump in the road. But I couldn’t stop thinking about that redneck, I mean it looked like brown gravy, Holy Cow! But the good news is that at the time of this post, my plumbing is back in order.  This is definitely one of my most toilet filled post ever.

*UPDATE: On December 3rd we received a mail from the post office containing my wife’s social security and credit cards minus her gift certificate. The mail had a zip code from Anaheim, this could only mean that this thief lives around Orange County. So from this clue I could assume that the person found my goodies in the restroom, took it as an early Christmas Present. He later came home to OC, where he lives, took all the valuable items, then dumped the wallet. Later some postal worker found the wallet and mailed it back. All this transpired in a matter of days.

So if I find anyone who is not African American, went to Hoover Dam during the thanksgiving break, and lives in the Orange County Vicinity, I’m going to grab his balls and squeeze hard.

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