PBW: So Money, I Don't Even Know It.

Yesterday, to the best of my ability, I shared the twisty tale of my first trip to Atlantic City. It's been a few days, and I woke up on Tuesday with a bad sore throat, and generally run down. A buddy at work told me that I can't party all night like when I was a kid, that it takes two days or more to recover after something like that. I'll have to take his word for it, since I never partied like that when I was a kid. In any case, no trip would be complete without my camera, and even though it spent the bulk of the time in my hotel room on Saturday night, I got a few cell phone pictures, and on Sunday morning took my camera out on a misty boardwalk to complete my latest collection of images for Photo Blog Wednesday:

Someday I'm going to figure out how to get to those rockets, but for now a blurry shot from the train is what I'll have to settle for.

ACES: New York to Atlantic City in less than three hours, and they serve beer.

The first few night shots were taken from the train station and our cab, and the two preceding ones were from the window of our hotel room.

While the only picture of our new friend Pam is this blurry cell phone shot, I'm pretty sure her phone's pictures are much clearer. After that insane drink that had me breakdancing, I lost some judgment and common sense. Hopefully, leaning over in our booth and licking the side of her face just as my friend took a picture of her is one of those things I'm remembering wrong. I guess the moral of the story is to make sure any embarrassing, drunken photos are taken with your own camera.

I took a half hour or so to do some exploring on my own, and to try and sober up. I got some shots of the holiday decorations, and even the beach at night. I bet that place is amazing in the Summer, though probably crowded.

I never sleep well when I'm away from home, and after two hours I was awake and ready to take some good pictures. A few shots out the window showed gray skies, windmills, and the general layout of the city.

The hallway was pretty cool, and very empty in the morning. I remember thinking I saw the little boy from The Grudge run past in one of the mirrors when we first arrived the day before, and that was well before I got drunk.

A shot out the window near the 8th floor elevator bank gave me my first real sense of the beach and the ocean just outside. I couldn't see anything out there at night.

Who is that mysterious man in black on the escalator pointing his camera up at the mirrored ceiling?

It's a bar shaped like a boat, but it don't float.

On the one hand, the crummy weather allowed me to get a shot of the boardwalk without any people in the way. On the other hand, the weather was crummy. Oh well, it gives me an excuse to go back on a nicer day for more photos.

I bet it'd be nice to stay at the Paris Hilton, although I probably would have come home with more than a sinus infection...

I didn't even see the boat in this shot until I got home. Madness.

“I predict...you will spend a lot of money...” Uncanny!

Even the birds drink in A.C.

My friend told me a lot of cats dwell beneath the boardwalk, but this was the only one that ventured out while I was taking pictures.

I probably was within my rights as a photographer, but the security guard didn't have to tell me twice after taking this picture that photos were not allowed in there.

There was a whole book full of food and drinks we could have ordered, were we ever there long enough to get room service. The two or three hours I slept was probably the most time I spent in the room. Meanwhile, as we were checking out around noon on Sunday, the noises in the next room seemed to indicate that our neighbor either had a very agreeable wife/girlfriend, or had purchased companionship. I'd like to read his blog entries. It seems like the best stories are always in the next room....



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