Vegas, Labor Day ‘08: Day 3
“And who are you?”
I wake up about 10 A.M. Vegas time and head down to the casino. After about half and hour, I’ve made back about half my losses of the night before.
We head to Country Club for lunch. I’m not in the mood for anything too heavy so I order the crab cake sliders. They’re light and very tasty and just what the doctor ordered.
After lunch, I stop by the poker room and get on the wait list for a $1-3 no-limit game. Fifteen minutes later, they call my name and I sit down at a full table.
I bide my time, sizing up the table. It’s solid competition, and to top it off, one guy’s on a rush catching aces, kings, and jacks, all back-to-back. I fold a pair of 10’s early against a raise and re-raise on a board with three overs, only to see a 10 drop on the river that would have won it for me.
They say if you can’t spot the fish, then the fish is you, but fortunately, I recognize that the young guy opposite me is overplaying too many hands for his small stack. Soon we’re in a hand together when I raise on the button with pocket jacks and he calls. The board comes Ace-Queen-Six and he bets out. I smell the bluff and put him all in. He calls with a straight draw that doesn’t hit and I’m up about a hundred bucks. I stick around until my big blind arrives before cashing out and heading to the spa.
The Wynn spa is very nice, but something of a let down. The sauna isn’t very hot and it lacks the dark, cozy feel that the spa at the MGM Grand has. Still, it’s a nice time and I enjoy the whirlpool, sauna, and steam rooms while munching on the free fruit and juices.
Relaxed and refreshed, I head back to the room for a quick nap before dinner at the SW Steakhouse.
The Wynn’s signature steakhouse is on the Lake of Dreams, which features a huge waterfall that’s interrupted from time to time by giant animatronic puppet shows set to music. Think the Muppets meets Cirque du Soleil.
The hostess seats us two tables back from the river. Our server arrives and asks, “Enjoying the circus?”
Confused, we ask what she means and she motions two tables over and says, “Mr. Wynn is having dinner over there.”
Yes, we’re having dinner two tables away from Steve Wynn.
I order the bone-in Ribeye with foie gras, then quickly flag down the server to ask if Mr. Wynn’s having the steak or the fish. Relieved he’s having the steak, we watch him chat excitedly with the other man at his table.
Our food arrives and I down the 20-ounce steak in a matter of minutes. While not on the same level as Kobe, it’s easily the best “normal” steak I’ve ever had. I top it off with a glass of Johnnie Walker Blue as Mr. Wynn and his guest finish their desert.
I tell our server I’m hesitant to approach Mr. Wynn when he’s dining, but would love to say hi. “You’re his guest,” she replies, “I’m sure he’d love to say hello. He’s a very nice man.”
I’m nervous as hell as we approach, waiting for a break in their conversation. Finally, the other man notices us and tells Wynn he has company.
I say something along the lines of “Hello Mr. Wynn, we just wanted to thank you for a great vacation.”
He turns, smiles, and says hello.
My girlfriend says, “You have a wonderful place.”
He says “Thank you, and who are you?”
It’s an odd question but then I remember, Wynn can barely see. He suffers from retinitis pigmentosa, a degenerative disease that’s gradually rendering him blind.
My girlfriend answers and Wynn smiles and asks where we’re from.
We tell him DC and he asks where in DC.
“Just outside DC,” we say, “Tysons Corner”
“Tysons Corner,” Wynn says with recognition.
Then I remember he started out running bingo in Upper Marboro, Maryland.
“I’m going to be in DC next week,” he says, “for a Kennedy Center board meeting.”
I stammer something about remembering that he came from Maryland, Wynn corrects me believing I meant that he went the University of Maryland. I feel like an idiot anyway.
I tell him how great our vacation has been, how every single person at the hotel has been friendly and helpful, and how grateful I am for all he’s done to make Vegas the city it is today. Wynn, cordial as ever, smiles and somehow makes me feel like I’m the first, and not millionth, person to tell him this.
We head back to our table where I’m giddy as a teenage girl for the next fifteen minutes. We talk about how great our trip has been so far and decide to stay an extra day. I call Southwest and find that it’s expensive, but not crazy expensive, the move our flights, then talk to the slot host who gets us an extra night in our suite at a greatly reduced rate.
That set, we head to the Palms for some more VP, then back to Wynn. We’re on the list for Blush, their lounge, but once inside we find it’s packed. We head to their other club, Tryst, only to learn it’s only open Thursday to Sunday. We settle on Parasol Up, a bar with a view of the lake and waterfall, where I down a couple of mimosas before turning in for the night.
