We dragged ourselves out of bed the next morning and headed for coffee. Then, realizing checkout was much nearer than we thought, we quickly packed.
After saying goodbye to a couple of the girls until the wedding, we checked our bags with the hotel, and wandered up the strip in search of a little hair o' the dog. In the blazing desert sun.
By the time we found a patio with tables shaded by umbrellas, I could no longer fathom ingesting any sort of alcohol. S was in even worse shape than I was. Our old was most certainly acting up again.
While the other girls enjoyed their margaritas, S and I drank what the waiter called all the water in the desert.
Then as the bachelorette and her maid of honor tried their luck with the room credits, before catching their flight, the rest of us, with an even later flight, decided to relax (read: pass out) by the pool.
Waiting in the terminal for our flight, it was obvious that we had done Vegas right. We'd arrived full of hopes and expectations for a fun-filled weekend. We left depleted and on the wagon. Well, at least for a day or so.