And yet I can imagine myself, sitting in that limo with my Cupid girl, feeling chintzy because I didn't ante up seventy bucks an hour for the eight-person stretch. One's initial foray into romantic behavior is no time to get cheap. Then we're off to one of the tres-romantic hotel suites overlooking fabulous Las Vegas. Money, of course, is no object, because I have none. But I do have credit cards, and so romantic am I that I don't mind paying twenty-one percent interest on this adventure.
Nothing is more amour-piercing than petty financial concerns.
At 1,300 square feet, they're larger than my house. With two stories, they have one more story than my house. It sounds ideal for the swank evening I have in mind, and there's absolutely no way I'll get into one. Thanks to a St. Valentine's Day concert by Elton John, they are all reserved. I'm not convinced, however.