Reno: Day Three

This would be Saturday. We liked Friday’s breakfast food so much, we decided to have more, and so we ambled down to the hotel café. Having a taste for chorizo, I ordered up a Mexican burrito while my partner requested corned beef hash (corned beef is one of two foods forbidden in our house; I promise never to bring Brussels sprouts inside) and eggs. Then it was down to the hospitality room and my introduction to the slot machine. Yes, we stepped out of the suite for a quick smoke, and what else was there to do? I made a few bucks, about twelve, I think, and then we went back to mingle a bit.

The later part of the afternoon we split up: one for a manicure and pedicure while sipping a mojito and the other to Walgreens to have some photo prints made. Now, you’d think Reno, being a cosmopolitan city with an international airport, people speaking a wide variety of native tongues, and a spa on every corner would be able to come up with a decent manicure. After the first french manicure proved too embarrassing to show in public, a second operator redid the job. Now I ask you: does this look like a world class manicure, or does it look more like an eight-year-old said, “Hey, let me do your nails?”



Yeh. And that was the better job. Sheesh! But there was no time left. One redo put us off schedule enough to miss the cocktail hour as it was, so back to the hotel for a quick shower and change of clothes.

The banquet was a barbecue; the raffle was held (we didn’t win); and the speech was very long but very entertaining. It was a story, really, rather than a speech, about a mission aboard the Sculpin, details of which were only recently declassified. The storyteller was the captain of the boat during that mission and his story was most compelling. The only reason we realized that it was very long was the urge to smoke coming on, then subsiding, then coming on again. But we didn’t want to miss the story. I may summarize it at a later time, but it’s too long and off topic for this vacation post.

When we finally stepped out to smoke and find the restrooms, we discovered that a Quinceañera was being celebrated in the next meeting room. We also noticed that everyone entering the room, including toddlers, had to be wanded by private security officers, and when people came from that room to the shared cash bar, they were served drinks in plastic cups. No glass was allowed at that party. It rather made me wish I’d been packing.

After the banquet, we headed back to the hospitality suite for the final time. The reunion organizer had announced that there was still a fair amount of liquid refreshment in the room and he preferred it be disposed of hydraulically rather than ported out via heft, and several of us were happy to oblige.