Reno
Category: Misc.

It didn’t take long for Adam and me to realize the error of our ways. It took even less time for us to make the phone call.

“Yes – I’d like to cancel my reservation.” I politely explained to the gentleman on the other end of the line. “Thank you.” I then pressed the ‘end’ button on the car phone and quickly pulled the car, which was still running, out of the parking lot.

Perhaps, I should back up a bit.

The summer after my senior year of high school, my friend Adam, and I thought that we’d take a trip to Reno. We, being young and foolish, were laboring under quite a few misconceptions. First and foremost was the misconception that ‘Las Vegas and Reno were, in fact, pretty much the same thing.’

“Oh sure – Vegas is bigger,” I thought, “… but Reno will do.” Wow – was I wrong. For those who’ve not experienced Reno, Reno is where people who can’t afford the hefty $19.95 price of Vegas’s Circus-Circus go to rot away into red vinyl seats. Old ladies wear gloves that could have been, at one point, white but are now a dull gray, and the cocktail waitresses look as though they’re one bad day away from ending it all. It’s a depressing place without the energy of Vegas. While “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas” I’m pretty sure that “What goes to Reno stays in Reno.” It’s the last stop on the ‘depressing life’ train.

But again I digress….

We had booked our accommodations. This was, gasp, before the Internet and resources were limited so we turned to the ‘Travel’ section of the San Francisco Chronicle. I had remembered seeing plenty of ads for Reno getaways and I wasn’t disappointed. The page was filled with deals. There was, of course, Caesar’s Palace, but it was relatively expensive. Besides, we didn’t want to pay for the name. Furthermore, having just seen “Honeymoon in Vegas” we were in no mood for just a plain room. We wanted something themed. After all, that’s what Reno and Vegas are, right? It’s a whole city filled with over-the-top. In the column next to the Caesar’s ad was the jackpot, a themed-suite hotel. It was a little more than your average place, but we decided to get the royal treatment. “You only live once,” I remembered thinking.

The drive there was rather uneventful. We made good time. It was summer and Reno isn’t all that far from the Bay Area when the passes aren’t covered in snow. As we pulled into town I was giddy. I couldn’t wait to check into the hotel and discover the inner Pharaoh inside of me (the suite was Egyptian). We eyed the big hotels and wondered which was ours. It took a few trips around the block before we lowered our eyes down from the massive hotels unto the sprawl that surrounded them. It took one more trip to spot the large, red neon sign that proudly exclaimed “MOTEL FOR LOVERS.”

It was a little like that scene in the movies where the protagonist realizes that he should have seen the clues. FLASH – San Francisco – FLASH prominent mention of large hot tub FLASH.

I looked at Adam. Adam looked at me. We both looked at the phone, and the call was made. It’s not that there is anything wrong with it, but as 18 year-old guys we were unwilling to take the chance that someone might not understand the mix-up.

We ended up staying at the Embassy Suites down the street. It wasn’t themed but at that point we were quite happy about that. We enjoyed the complimentary happy hour and wandered around Reno for the night. The next morning we packed up and left. It was 10 years before I returned to Reno on a road trip and it’s still a depressing, miserable place.

I swear I had a point when I started this. Oh well.

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