The Long Way Home

Well, I'm back from Vegas, and minus a few credit cards, I returned with exactly what I came with. No, my credit cards were not stolen. I happen to have a certain propensity to get into airport disasters. I swear, I get to the airport 2 hours early, I check my flight status a million times, and always make sure to have everything I need. The woman at security even complimented me on my packing skills, and said I had everything in perfect order, including all my 3oz. liquids safely packed in plastic bags. However, apparently efficient packing is not enough to get you safely through the airport experience. A valid I.D. and boarding pass, for instance, are extremely helpful. And had I not, in my sleep deprived delirium, left my purse in the taxi on the way to the airport, I would have had it all.

Unluckily for me, I DID leave my bag in a Las Vegas taxi. The purse contained all of my identification, credit cards, cell phone, boarding pass, ipod, and favorite lip gloss, among other things. When I walked inside the zoo, formerly known as the Las Vegas McCarran International Airport, only then did I realize that my bag was missing and started to panic. On a luckier note, I had a friend with me who was able to keep me relatively calm, and made calls to my cell phone and Vegas taxi companies. Sadly, the taxi companies were no help, and the women who answered my calls actually started yelling at me! This was not helping my delicate mental state. So we decided to get on one of the long lines and I figured that one of the ticketing people would know what I could do. I was so antsy though, I hardly waited in line for 10 minutes before going up to someone and asking “do you mind if I ask you an urgent question while you help these other people?” The woman looked at me annoyingly at first, but once she saw my clearly disheveled and tear-stained face, her glance softened and she nodded for me to go ahead. I told her that I had just lost my purse and asked if somehow I might still be able to fly tonight. The thought of being stuck in Vegas with no money, no credit cards, no phone, no nothing, was an absolutely terrifying thought!

Amazingly, as long as you are flying domestically, you don’t actually need an I.D. She took my friend and me right away, and sent us off to “super security,” where amazingly, there was no line. They checked for explosives in my bag, and patted me down a bit, but after that, we were on our way. My friend and I had reached the gate, and discussed the many ways it could have been worse while I used her phone to cancel my credit cards. There was another call coming in that I was going to ignore, but since it wasn’t my phone, I decided to take a look. It took me a moment to process, but all of a sudden I realized that the call waiting was coming from my phone!

I hung up on the credit card people and quickly answered. Yes! It was the taxi and he had just found my bag! Since we got through security so quickly, we had about an hour before our flight left, giving the taxi plenty of time to get back to the airport and give me my purse. I ran outside, and met the cab driver, gave him 8 hugs and told him how much I appreciated him coming back. I then happily gave him all the cash in my wallet, said goodbye, and headed back to the airport. I got to the gate just in time to board with my friend, and was in total shock that I had everything I came with. Obviously, it could have been worse.

Lauren Weitzman
"All I want is to be Googleable!"

Vegas baby, Vegas...

So, here I am in Las Vegas for a few days on business travel, and although I’m not going to say anything about work, or my business here, I will share some random tidbits that I’ve noticed since my arrival:

Happy crossing guards. When I think of crossing guards, my brain automatically sends me back to the 4th grade, where I can picture the stout, gruff, faces of annoyed adults waving children across minivan-filled streets. They did not seem like a particularly cheery bunch. Then I think about my commute to work every day through one of the busiest intersections in DC. Each morning, the crossing guards furiously blow their whistles, roll their eyes, and generally treat the work force like children who have yet to learn how properly to cross the street. I’ve never received very positive vibes from them either. But the crossing guards in Vegas, now they are a different breed all together. Each morning, I arrive at the convention center looking like I shouldn’t be up at 8am PDT (which still feels like 5am EDT). As I lazily stroll closer and closer, trying to suck up as much caffeine and sun as possible before I head into the buzz of fluorescent lights, there they are. Golden-aged, sun-kissed, smiling faces, waving me across the street with personal greetings to each passerby. They cannot know how much I have thought of them during my stay here, but they certainly make my Vegas life that much more pleasant. Maybe when I retire, I’ll head out west, stop sign and yellow vest in hand, and join the ranks.

Vegas thoughts to be continued…

Lauren Weitzman
"All I want is to be Googleable!"