|
Phil and I fi nally move into our new apartment. We love it. For a long time we had a dream to come to Las Vegas with just a purse and a backpack. No luggage at all. Why would we need luggage? Everything we need is in our Las Vegas Apartment!
It’s been a long journey. Three years ago I bought a unit at The Cosmo. It hadn’t been built yet, but the brochure promised sweep ing vistas and a swinging lifestyle. There were pictures of the gym populated by healthy people laughing as they worked out and the pool decorated by a single young lady in a bikini with cherry red lips. We didn't know exactly what we were buying, but we wanted some of that.
A year later construction hadn’t even started, so Phil put a down payment on a condo at the W. It was going to be great! Hot tubs in the room! Neon playboy décor! You could sit in your bachelor pad in the hot tub overlooking the strip and toast your glittering future with champagne.
Another year went by. The Cosmo consisted of a big hole in the ground. The W dream never materialized. Phil got his deposit back. “I want a place we can move into now!” I whined. “I’m tired of buying air!”
Enter Poker Towers. Antonio [Esfandiari] already had a condo there, a corner unit with a sweeping panoramic view that encompassed the strip and then swung around the back so you could see the mountains as well. At fi rst we wanted one like Antonio’s, but on a higher fl oor of course. But then we found out another building was slated to go up next door, and there was a good possibility that instead of looking at the mountains we would be staring into somebody’s living room instead. The thought made us shudder. “We need our privacy!” we declared. “We need to be able to walk around naked without anyone looking at us.”
We settled for a smaller unit down the hall with a spectacular view of the strip that can never be altered. We installed cherry wood fl oors and recessed lighting and bought a bunch of Italian furniture from Antonio’s guy, Apartment Ben.
The day before the fi rst event of the 2008 World Series of Poker we moved in. We love it! It is just like the brochures for the Vegas Lifestyle. The elevators are fi lled with Poker Players and Party Girls. From ten to eleven in the morning, the gym is pulsing with life, everybody getting their workout in before the tournaments start at noon. The lobby features palm trees, a faux library, and free Starbucks coffee.
Phil, normally the biggest slob you would ever meet, has suddenly turned into Felix Unger. Nobody can wear shoes in the house, especially me. It turns out he has been disturbed by the millions of minute indentations on the wood fl oor of our old house (caused by stilettos).
For the fi rst few weeks I’m not allowed to use the stove. “I don’t want our new apartment to have cooking smells,” Phil says stubbornly. “Let’s wait until we buy a grill. We can cook outside on the patio.”
When Antonio and David Wells come over and eat in the living room despite Phil’s objections, he follows them around anxiously with a dustpan. “Stop dropping crumbs,” he pleads. “You’re dropping crumbs…” They stare at him bemused.
“Phil, what happened to you?” says David with his mouth full. “This isn’t the Phil I know.” “This is my house and I don’t want it to get messy!” roars Phil defensively. “Is there anything wrong with that?”
We go to Sharper Image after Phil busts out of his fi nal table. In a shopping frenzy we tear through the store, stacking things high on the counter. Sharper Image is going out of business; the entire store is on sale. Phil is $75K richer from his eighth-place fi nish so we buy everything we need and some things we don’t.
Phil gets a telescope so we can look at what’s going on across the street and a camera that straps on his forehead so he can fi lm stuff he sees when he’s riding his motorcycle. I buy a mini wine cellar, a scale, and a margarita blender.
When we get home, Phil throws some steaks on the new outdoor grill while I whip up mango margaritas in the kitchen. Then we settle down on the patio to toast our poker future as the sun sets pink behind the massive construction site of City Center.
Phil turns to me, beaming. “Baby!” he says, lifting his margarita, “We’re living the Dream!”
|
