Monday, February 10, 2014
- __3__ Gratitudes (I've changed this section to reflect evolving goals): Sarah Davies for hosting the best literary agency retreat ever, meeting so many writer friends, and visiting Orlando for first time ever.
- 2,100 Calories Consumed Yesterday (took a whole week off since half-marathon and might be overdoing it ;)
- __5__ Units of Caffeinated (or otherwise non-water) Beverages (I shouldn't even need to count on vacation)
- __1 hrs Spent Writing (shopping Downtown Disney and hot tubbing took precedence)
- _0__ Culinary Delights/Disasters Created With Own Hands (but that Ghiradelli Square brownie fudge sundae can't be replicated at home)
Not so long ago I discovered some interesting things about my hometown, Las Vegas. And when I say, "interesting" I mean fascinatingly, amazingly, awesome things--like the SECRET DOOR located in Downtown Vegas. I've alluded to having found this door a couple of times online, but like all good things, it's taken time. Today is your lucky day!
But not too lucky, because I'm not at liberty to discuss the precise location, descriptive names, or otherwise distinguishing features of the secret location housing the secret door. Otherwise it would cease to be...y'know, a secret.
I will however tell you about my experience in bullet point fashion:
- Mr. Humphries took me on a date Downtown to see some of the new cool restaurants and hangouts recently built by Tony Hsieh and the Downtown Project. (As mentioned before, major efforts are being made to rejuvenate, reinvigorate, reinvent and perform other R-words to the area).
- Delicious food was consumed, live music was appreciated, one thing led to another and we found ourselves under the dim romantic light of antique chandeliers, amongst a group of well-dressed hipsters, sitting at the old mahogany bar of a watering hole which shall not be named.
- The bartender took our order. "Two Cokes, with a twist of lemon on the rocks, thanks." With a raised eyebrow he delivered the sodas and got back to work at serving customers with normal orders at a bar.
- I sip my $5 Coke and absorb the beauty of the room, the stunning art, the candlelit ambiance, until something catches my eye. Was that a door closing in the dark corridor? Had I just seen a rectangular passageway disappear into wallpaper? Or was the Coke going to my head?
- "Bartender?" I called. "Was that a...?"
- "Yes," he cuts me off. "Here, take this." He hands me an small item which (also) shall not be named, with a phone number on it.
- Mr. Humphries is now the one with raised eyebrows. Time to go.
- A week goes by, and I cannot get the hidden door out of my mind. Wild fantasies and absurd theories ruminated within me all day--in the shower, while doing the dishes, as I tried to fall asleep. I decided, I MUST GO BACK AND FIND OUT.
- I called the number... no answer. I called it again...no answer. Crestfallen, I wondered if it wasn't meant to be. Finally, I got a text back saying, "What time would you like your reservation?"
- I made the reservation for the next night, put my go-to fancy pleather pants on, got a babysitter and dragged Mr. Humphries Downtown to solve the mystery.
- We arrived on scene and followed discreet instructions to position ourselves in the dark hallway by the door. Next to the large 1920's black and white portraits of scary looking men with beards hanging on the walls, I began to worry and sweat from unladylike areas. My wildest dreams were now turning into fears of a very naughty strip club, an awkward swingers situation, and even a London-style torture dungeon.
- Soon a beautiful girl came to dark hallway and with a sultry voice beckoned us to follow her through the door. Once inside we entered an even darker room, which I can only describe as an antichamber--whatever that is. We were given instructions, a handbook which contained even more instructions/information, and ushered into the main room.
- What happened next blew my mind, and was nothing like what I'd imagined. Of course I can't tell you what it was, but believe me, it was awesome. I guess you're just going to have to go Downtown Las Vegas to find out. Or pay me in cold hard cash, credit card, or French chocolate to find out.
- Secret Door = The Killers
- I must find a way to get in (their schedule...not their pants).
- It's a risky venture to get out of the good ol' comfort zone and go looking for doors to walk through (after all there could have been a truly awful swingers club in there with a hairy Elvis impersonator assigned to me while that hot sultry girl took off with Mr. Humphries), but sometimes risks are worth taking.
Jessie With A Shot At The Night