Never would I sleep this late — 1 p.m. — but this is Vegas. My accessible 550-square-foot condo is one block off of the Strip, two blocks from Denny’s. On these stints to Vegas, I’ve made my residence the Signature Towers, where accessible condo suites are owned or rented for $99 per night. A room at any of the big casinos on the Strip can be had for an average of $65. But to be in a condo is a world away, the true lap of luxury. Friends of mine stay at Vdara, also a premium, all-suites property for just $99 per night, located mid-Strip, in the action. But I’ve got access to an owned unit at the Signature, and this morning — make that this afternoon — it couldn’t be more convenient.
All of these condo-suites have kitchenettes, but I’m getting in my power wheelchair and heading to Denny’s. I’ll worry about a shower and shave when I get back. As I roll out the door, I ponder what hot spots I should hit tonight. At the elevator, I catch a glimpse of myself in a wall mirror — wrinkled bowling shirt, 5 o’clock shadow, messed-up hair, and I think for a moment that maybe I’m less than presentable to head to the Strip. But then it occurs to me: To hell with it. I don’t care what I look like. I just want Denny’s. Again, this is Vegas.
At Denny’s, where they know me from my daily patronage, I flip through the menu for no reason, killing time as I wait for the waitress, June, who knows what I want.
“Your regular?” she asks.
“Yes, please,” I say, knowing my usual grilled cheese sandwich and fries, along with a Coke, will be served up in minutes.
I like this newer Denny’s because of its locale on the South Strip, but the North Strip Denny’s, a mile and a half up, is more my style — the seedy side of the