You’d think a big, sophisticated city like Las Vegas would have the newest, spiffiest technology in the world. Well, you’d think wrong. It’s lacking a simple little thing called wi-fi.
Seriously, finding an open connection, free or otherwise, sucked up almost two hours of my time Wednesday night. We rolled into town late afternoon. Aaron and Holli were hot on the trail of an apartment. They needed some financial information from us, because, apparently, the property management folks need to know if you’ll pay them rent. Go figure. I needed to access my bank account and send them a pdf of my statement.
No free wi-fi at the McDonalds. Or Starbucks. Lots of networks, most of them locked, and the ones linked to a hotel requested $$$$, which would be charged to my room. Kind of hard to do when I didn’t have a room with them. Finally, I returned to my own hotel, ready to swallow its fees. A call to the front desk informed me they don’t have internet. AT ALL. Not free, not for sale, not for a minute, not for a second. NADA.
But….their sister casino has free wi-fi in the hotel lobby. ONLY. And it’s at the other end of Fremont Street, past some sketchy areas. I gave up joining the revelers on the street, Elvis, Jack Sparrow, Death, the showgirls, Brett Michaels, Queen and the woman with the enormous breasts and tiny pasties, and trudged to the hotel where I finally got a signal. I did my Mom thing and sent the information off, which helped result in us getting an apartment north of Pearl Harbor. (Yeah!) It will be ready Monday, the day we arrive. No hotel rooms after Sunday. Also, no furniture, but it’s a small price to pay (ask me again next week).
What happens in Vegas stays there because no one can get a connection to tell about it.
Next time, get a computer with wi-fi and cellular. Or don’t schedule your trip with a major household move. Just saying.
Cheryl, on the road, day 8
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