SANTABATTICAL, Day 3: Sitting, Smiling, and Singing Sinatra After the long walk home yesterday, Id decided (for my feets sake) that I would secure a bus pass for the remainder of my visit. $34.00 netted me a 15-day pass, so I was all set. I took my time wandering down to the mall, and attempted to enter via the network of underground parking so I wouldnt be seen by as many children. I was unsuccessful in my first attempt, and mall security came to my rescue. I got into my suit (did I mention it was an Adele suit? I know what I want next Christmas!) and was taken up to the set. The time went by pretty quickly, but I was apparently going too slow with the families; they wanted me to be moving them through faster. (sigh) For the days tally: Hugs: many! Kisses on Santas cheek: 1 Terrified children: about 3 I then walked through the underground and came up on another street, next to the Trump Tower. Not nearly as impressive at night as it is in daylight (the whole thing is gold.) It had been my intention tonight to sing a Sinatra song in honor of his birthday, and the first place I headed was Harrahs. They had a duelling piano bar with (supposedly) karaoke from 6 to 9pm. I splurged on a taxi to get there, and my friendly cab driver snapped a selfie for his 9-year-old boy. Hed come to America from East Africa, and was displeased with the rain. (I have been assuring EVERYONE that just because Im a Portlander does NOT mean that I packed this weather with me.) I walked into the lobby, saw a massage stand for a reasonable rate, and decided to spoil myself. With my face down in the donut, I was still getting laughs and smiles and more than one picture taken of me. Proceeding through the casino, I come to a (mostly) empty bar - a handful of cowboys and rodeo fans watching an event on one of the screens, and two unattended pianos. The bartender informed me that theyd discontinued karaoke some time ago. (sigh...again) Not far from my apartment, Id spotted a bar advertising karaoke - Dinos. I called in advance to confirm that yes, karaoke was in full swing starting at 10pm. I went home, changed clothes, and sallied forth to the venue; it skirted the edge of the Strip, butting up against the area west of the Stratosphere known as Naked City - which I was heavily advised to avoid. In between my place and Dinos, Id encountered a Venezualan restaurant, Viva Las Arepas. Arepas are a traditional dish that are rather like a gyro, but made with a corn bun, With black beans, pulled pork and delicious sauce. I enjoyed it guilt-free, along with a pastelito (a deep-fried puff pastry filled with shredded coconut and cream cheese) and a Malta Polar (a strange but tasty malt and sugarcane drink; I suspect that this is what gets fermented into rum..) One block further up was Dinos. It truly was a dive, and packed with people of all ages. Dark, and smoky (a weird thing to encounter again - a bar that allows smoking..gahh..), the host seemed very affable, but I wish hed taken more care with his songbooks; Artist books were divided up in half, and I of course grabbed the wrong half to start. I settled on Come Blow Your Horn - a lesser-known swing song. I was introduced as my Santa in disguise, Nick Saint Jolly, and I was well-received. In the middle of the song, the host stood by me for a picture. (note to self: go and find that pic.) After one drink and one song (and one drink was ENOUGH - they pour them really strong there), I went home to watch the last half of White Christmas and then went to bed.
Posted on: Sat, 13 Dec 2014 20:33:37 +0000
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