I look out my window and can see the Strip, with the New Frontier sign still looming but no hotel to speak for. We're right at the end of the core of activity, across from Treasure Island and Mandalay Bay, and next to the new Palazzo where Mario Batali has three restaurants (and I'm not sure that I'll have time to try even one!). Still, as unexciting as it may be, I was happy to stay in at the Wynn last night and have dinner by myself at Daniel Boulud's Brasserie, where I sipped a lovely Viognier and ate the tomato tarte tatin, meant for sharing, alone. And a French Onion Soup built for one, beef broth enhanced with actual pieces of beef.
When I first sat down for dinner, the waiter asked me if I wanted a magazine or something, flashing me back to that scene in Forgetting Sarah Marshall where the male lead gets used to travelling alone. I'm already used to it so I declined, and let the very weird light show on the waterfall outside (set to songs like Yello's "Oh Yeah")entertain me alone. Still, the staff felt so bad for me that I got a free wine refill, and the wine manager's cell phone number. I was too tired to use it, and I was too tired to take The Magic Guy, who was sitting at a neighboring table, up on his offer to hang out with his group.
I'll be working most of today but I did schedule a "custom massage" for myself at the hotel spa, so I'm curious to see what they come up with. Hopefully I'll get another swim in, and I'll get to hang out with that cute young guy from San Francisco I met at last night's cocktail hour.
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