By Wednesday night, Paul and I were sick of Las Vegas.
It was August in the desert, the very pit of summer. We had only been there since Sunday. But we both agreed that four days in the Neon Capital of America were enough to last us a lifetime.
The conference that brought us both there had ended late that afternoon. Our plane didn't leave for Detroit until 9 the next morning. We had 36 hours to go, plenty of travelers' checks left, and no desire to stay in Las Vegas.
|