Stuff by Cher: It's all fun and games until somebody loses a wallet

Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas . . . the glitz, the bright lights, the extravagance.

You know the adage . . . what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. Yeah, well, that almost happened to us.

Hubby and I were doing the Vegas thing . . . a little bit of gambling, a little bit of drinking, a little bit of sightseeing . . . what most folks do and having a rockin’ good time doing it!

We were having so much fun that we missed the shuttle back to our hotel. No worries . . . we decided to hump it. After all, it wasn’t too far of a trek. And it wasn’t, we made it back to the hotel in about 30 minutes. Just in time to meet up with some friends and enjoy more Vegas frivolity.

And that’s when I noticed it . . . my wallet was gone. Holy crapparoni! Just like the old American Express Travelers Check commercial . . . all my money, all my credit cards and all my identification . . . POOF! . . . gone.

I though hubby’s head was going to explode. The foul expletives that exploded from his mouth was enough to send R. Lee Ermey running for cover! Saying he was pissed off was the understatement of the millennia!

I was fairly certain that I had not been pick pocketed. It was more likely that it fell out of my bag . . . in evidence was my shoulder bag hanging open and wallet gone.

I knew when I last had it, which was not long before we started the walk back to the hotel. We decided to retrace our steps. With any luck we would find it intact and unmolested. In Vegas? Yeah, fat chance . . .

Not overly optimistic but hoping for the best all the same . . . off I went with irate hubby in tow . . . did I mention that he was fairly angry? Yeah? Okay then . . .

We walked the reverse route step for step carefully scanning the ground for my lost wallet. All the while, little ol’ me was being berated for my carelessness, ineptitude and whatnot . . . it was seriously UNfun.

We were nearing the place where we had gone of the beaten path of The Strip and no wallet . . . no evidence of wallet . . . and losing hope. We knew for certain that if I had dropped that lost little package on the main thoroughfare of Las Vegas there was no way we would ever sit it . . . or it’s contents . . . ever again.

How would we pay for the hotel? How would I be able to board the plane? How would I ever be able to live with hubby?

Freaking out? Yeah . . . I was . . . BIG time!

As is wont to happen on the rarest of occasions in Sin City . . . lady luck shined her magnanimousness upon us. There on the ground . . . not 10 feet from the bright lights of the Las Vegas strip was my wallet . . . intact and unmolested . . . like a minor miracle.

Oy . . .