I’ve mentioned previously that Bonnie and I play at the Eldorado in Reno. Although we could drive, it’s easier to fly. One time, when we landed at the Reno airport, we took a shuttle to a casino I’ll call the Alamo rather than taking another shuttle to the Eldorado.
A little more than a month before this incident happened, I played for the first time at the Alamo. My goal was to get mailers at both the Alamo and the Eldorado. If we’re going through the expense of flying, it makes sense to have two or more stops once we get there rather than one.
Because of this play at the Alamo, I got a mailer with some free play and $100 worth of food. It wasn’t enough free play to justify a separate flight to Reno, but as a brief stop on the way the Eldorado, it was well worth the time it took. It’s possible my future mailers would be larger at the Alamo if I skipped picking up this first offer, but I didn’t figure that out until later.
While the benefits of playing at the Eldorado are sufficient to keep us going back, and the high-end restaurants there are excellent, the midday meal options there leave a lot to be desired. So, we decided to use the entire $100 food comp from the Alamo. We’d eat what we wanted and take the rest “to go.” We carried three bags of food with us when we left.
From the Alamo, we took a Lyft to the Eldorado. We could have taken the Alamo shuttle back to the airport and from there caught the shuttle to the Eldorado. Given the uncertainty of the shuttle schedules, this could have easily taken an hour or more. A $15 dollar, 15-minute Lyft ride seemed to be a good investment. On this particular trip, we brought along one suitcase, one backpack, and a walker. I don’t absolutely “need” the walker, but I tire more easily than I did when I was younger and I’m often glad I have it.
We went to the Gold Room at the Eldorado, which is what they call their VIP check-in area. Since the door to the Gold Room is heavy and we had our hands full with luggage, I went in alone while Bonnie waited outside “guarding” our stuff. After checking in, I returned. We gathered up our stuff and went to our room.
After a nap, I went down to the casino and played several hours. When I returned to the room after midnight, I discovered my backpack was not in the room. My laptop was in the backpack. The backpack is entirely black and apparently just didn’t see it when we were gathering up our stuff. With the three bags of food, it seemed like we had our normal amount of luggage. I was exhausted and decided to wait until morning to deal with the problem. If the lost and found had the backpack now, they would have it in the morning. We had left it behind 10 or so hours before and there was no chance it was still where we left it. I didn’t sleep well. While I have my computer backed up, it’s a hassle and I wasn’t looking forward to it.
At 8:30 in the morning, I called the operator and asked to be put through to lost and found. The operator refused. She told me to go to the Caesars.com website and fill out a form. I didn’t want to do that. I played the “hapless senior citizen” card. “I’m 78 years old and not good with computers. Please let me speak to a real person.” The operator refused so I continued, “There is medicine in the backpack and it’s important I know whether it’s lost or not.” While this was an exaggeration, it wasn’t too far off the mark. I have a daily pill regimen, and pills for two days were in the backpack, but skipping these for a few days would not be a disaster. Still, I sensed that emphasizing the medicine might be my best bet to talk to a human. Eventually, the operator relented and transferred me to a security guard in charge of lost and found.
They indeed had the backpack, including the laptop and everything else, and I was greatly relieved.
There are more and more similar incidents as I age. In the past few years, I’ve misplaced cell phones, keys, driver license, glasses, and departed a few slot machines without taking my TITO ticket with me. I’ve inadvertently left the garage door open when I drove away. Sometimes I’m fortunate and get my possessions back. Sometimes I don’t. While I occasionally lost things when I was younger, it’s happening more frequently as I age.
Bonnie, who is a few years older than me, loses things too. Probably more than I do. We each do our best to help the other, and we’re both glad we have each other to deal with these things, but sometimes it seems like it’s a case of the blind leading the blind.
While I’m still very glad I’m alive, there are more and more of these aggravating situations we need to deal with — at a time when we are less capable of dealing with them than we used to be. Someone suggested that this doesn’t seem fair, but to that a wiser man than me asked, “Compared to what?”
