When last we left our intrepid travelers, they were all alone on a Saturday night in Las Vegas, with wallets full of money and several credit cards. What to do, what to do? Why, go to an obscenely expensive restaurant and stuff themselves like the American capitalist Me-Generation pigs they are, of course!

Mandalay Bay offered many choices. Alan was interested in Hubert Keller's Fleur de Lys while I voted for Charlie Palmer's Aureole; those were triple-digit per person dining experiences but doubtless worth it. I kinda wanted to go despite the cost. Alan knows some of these chefs, either from culinary school or by reputation, and I thought he would enjoy it. Since most of the trip was Stuff Helly Likes (drinking, gambling, partying with her friends) it seemed only fair to do at least one thing Alan really liked, but he was reluctant to spend that much money. I understood that, but I wanted some of the things we did to be Alan-oriented so I was trying to convince him (and myself, too, actually).

We tabled the decision in order to go up to Alain Ducasse's restaurant, Mix, which is on the 64th floor of Mandalay Bay's tower hotel (called, imaginatively enough, THEHotel) that purportedly has the most wonderful view of the strip at night. We didn't plan to dine there; I only wanted to have a drink on the patio and show Alan that famous view. But once we got there, there was some private party that had rented the patio, though, so we couldn't go out there. I had the girl check twice, but my name wasn't on the guest list. Bastards! Do they not know?!?

Still unsure of our dining destination, we returned to the casino floor to play the slots and discuss. We won $11 on one machine and $46 on another - hardly high rollers by anyone's standards, much less Las Vegas standards, but a windfall of $57 bucks, plus the $8 I'd won earlier that day meant that dinner at one of the expensive restaurants would cost us only about as much as a typical dinner out. I wanted to go to Fleur de Lys (because that's where Alan really wanted to go) and offered to compromise: I'd drink water instead of wine so the dinner would be even more affordable and he could eat at Hubert's restaurant. Alan didn't want to do that; he said with the type of food it was, if I was EVER going to drink wine with dinner, it ought to be there. I was unconvinced, but we walked over to the restaurant area and checked out several menus.

We compromised on Wolfgang Puck's Trattorio del Lupo, which while not in the price range of the other two we were considering was still a few steps up from our normal haunts and promised to be a fantastic meal. I had Caesar salad with tons of asagio, brodo di mare cioppino of shrimp, swordfish, mussels, clams and grilled calamari steak over pasta, creme brulee (my favorite dessert) while Alan had insalada caprese (fresh mozzarella, basil and tomatoes, with balsamic vinaigrette), veal Milanese with arugula and asiago, and a rich chocolate-raspberry dessert with a fancy name, but I can't find it on Wolfie's menu nor can either of us remember it. It was fabulous.

On the walk back, we played a few more slots and basically won enough that playing wasn't costing us anything, but nothing of significance.

The next day, Sunday, was the wedding! Of course, there had to be an adventure getting there. More later, I must Flickrize. I really need to organize Flickr better, into sets and stuff. It takes so long, though...