Wild Side Walk: Pt 18.
(Unexpurgated) 1982: Report from the astronaut
Tobacco advertising,
San Francisco (1982)
©1982 www.stuartpage.com
Kid was an A.A.A. member, and had been outfitted with a complete package of maps and directions, accommodation guide, points of interest, and his car was all set for the journey. We were taking Interstate 80, a route that took us through the Nevada desert, Utah desert, the wastelands of Wyoming, cowboy country Nebraska, Iowa, Illinois, and I was to meet up with a friend in Chicago. I had absolutely no idea how long such a trip would take, and it was only when Kid plotted our probable day to day mileage, that I realised we were about to travel for five days, a distance of 2300 miles!
From San Francisco, we drove north-east through Sacramento, then climbed up the Sierra Nevadas and at a place called Truckee, appropriately enough there was a truck-stop full of cattle tracks, and the drivers were walking around jabbing long sticks through the gaps in the truck sides. I figured they must be some kind of tranquillisers, and I walked off into the thick snowy park behind the comfort kiosk. The air temperature had dropped from around 30°F in Frisco, to around zero in a matter of hours. Somewhere over beyond Truckee is Lake-Tahoe, a well advertised and talked about ski-resort. Part of its attraction is that just over the border is Reno, Nevada, a mini Las Vegas stuck out amongst the Nevada mountain desert.
We cruised into Reno late afternoon, and decided to check out Harrah's Casino. I only took $5 with me, and cashed it in for 20 quarters. I had just sampled my first 'snow' and when I entered the casino, everything sparkled, and the sound of coins dropping into slots, alarms, bells and whistles accompanying the clatter of a bingo win as coins come raining out of someone's machine, was enough to get my pulse racing. It was just like an adults only video parlour, except instead of armed laser-bases and rockets, there are random selection playing cards, staring out at mainly middle-aged women staring back. Some of them had games going on several machines and little bags full of quarters and dimes. The other popular machine is the one armed bandit; you just stick any coin in or any quantity of coins and pull a vertical lever down, and try to get three drums that rotate in the window to stop on the same pattern. The more you bet, the more you win! I had a few minor wins on the poker machines, but ended up leaving with nothing left.
I flagged down one of the Harrah's bunny girls and ordered a coffee. I should have realised that there'd be a built in service charge and I was expected to give a tip as well. 15% is apparently a reasonable tip,) so my coffee cost .75 Plus .75 service charge, plus .25c tip = 1.75). Kid said, "Lets get the hell outta here," and we drove out of the car-park building and straight away got lost. A friendly local pointed out 'Route 80' and we were off.
(To be continued).
Stumble It!
Tobacco advertising, San Francisco (1982)
©1982 www.stuartpage.com
Kid was an A.A.A. member, and had been outfitted with a complete package of maps and directions, accommodation guide, points of interest, and his car was all set for the journey. We were taking Interstate 80, a route that took us through the Nevada desert, Utah desert, the wastelands of Wyoming, cowboy country Nebraska, Iowa, Illinois, and I was to meet up with a friend in Chicago. I had absolutely no idea how long such a trip would take, and it was only when Kid plotted our probable day to day mileage, that I realised we were about to travel for five days, a distance of 2300 miles!
From San Francisco, we drove north-east through Sacramento, then climbed up the Sierra Nevadas and at a place called Truckee, appropriately enough there was a truck-stop full of cattle tracks, and the drivers were walking around jabbing long sticks through the gaps in the truck sides. I figured they must be some kind of tranquillisers, and I walked off into the thick snowy park behind the comfort kiosk. The air temperature had dropped from around 30°F in Frisco, to around zero in a matter of hours. Somewhere over beyond Truckee is Lake-Tahoe, a well advertised and talked about ski-resort. Part of its attraction is that just over the border is Reno, Nevada, a mini Las Vegas stuck out amongst the Nevada mountain desert.
We cruised into Reno late afternoon, and decided to check out Harrah's Casino. I only took $5 with me, and cashed it in for 20 quarters. I had just sampled my first 'snow' and when I entered the casino, everything sparkled, and the sound of coins dropping into slots, alarms, bells and whistles accompanying the clatter of a bingo win as coins come raining out of someone's machine, was enough to get my pulse racing. It was just like an adults only video parlour, except instead of armed laser-bases and rockets, there are random selection playing cards, staring out at mainly middle-aged women staring back. Some of them had games going on several machines and little bags full of quarters and dimes. The other popular machine is the one armed bandit; you just stick any coin in or any quantity of coins and pull a vertical lever down, and try to get three drums that rotate in the window to stop on the same pattern. The more you bet, the more you win! I had a few minor wins on the poker machines, but ended up leaving with nothing left.
I flagged down one of the Harrah's bunny girls and ordered a coffee. I should have realised that there'd be a built in service charge and I was expected to give a tip as well. 15% is apparently a reasonable tip,) so my coffee cost .75 Plus .75 service charge, plus .25c tip = 1.75). Kid said, "Lets get the hell outta here," and we drove out of the car-park building and straight away got lost. A friendly local pointed out 'Route 80' and we were off.
(To be continued).
Stumble It!
posted by Stuart Page at Tuesday, February 26, 2008
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