Day 18 of rollback - California Covid spike-Governor shuts us down
Our cabana at the Cosmo Chelsea Rooftop Pool…
Thursday. 7/30/20
10:00 - I’m up, having not slept much at all - L. slept great.
11:00 - 6:00 - L. and I go to the Cosmo Chelsea rooftop pool and check into our cabana. It is so hot here (115??) - I haven’t experienced heat like this since I lived in El Centro. The cabana holds six people and costs $531 to reserve it, but it is only for L. and I, as my Mom graciously paid for the rental. The $531 includes a $400 food/drink credit and a $72 gratuity for our assigned server. It’s not air-conditioned, although there is a ceiling fan. A refrigerator with complimentary water and soda is in the corner; a flat-screen TV on the wall. I pull out our portable fans and plug them in.
One thing I like about the cabana is that it’s completely enclosed, so we’re not exposed to pool-goers. People are in and around the pool, but almost nobody is masked. Directly outside are two chaise lounges specifically for L. and I, but we never use them - too hot. L. and I get to work ordering food and drinks as we try to plow through the $400 food/drink credit. I order “Frozes” (pronounced ‘frozay’) and L. orders novelty drinks and Pelegrino throughout the day.
We eat continuously, beginning with our complimentary fruit platter. ‘Ashley’ is our server and the customer service is exemplary - items on the pool menu taste great. I should note that the pool servers are all young women - busboys are young men - and they wear purple G-strings so skimpy that when you look at a server from the back, she appears completely naked from the waist down. At first, I find the objectification off-putting, but they don’t seem to care. All of the pool staff are wearing masks, EXCEPT the lifeguards - two young, 20-something females, in elevated chairs, who are wearing the obligatory one-piece red bathing suit.
Around 1:00 or 2:00, L. and I venture out to the pool. It. is. packed. Nobody is masking. The pool is only 4-ft deep and a large, drunk male [L. calls him a ‘guido’], holding a beer can, sits on the bottom, so just his head is above the water, and screams, “Help! Help!” pretending to drown. The lifeguard is too intimidated to say anything to this obnoxious asshole and nervously smiles at him. Then, she climbs down from her chair, walks over to three little black girls who are lightly splashing each other, and admonishes them for horseplay. Unbelievable.
‘Guido’ and friends wade over to a gaggle of seven, 30-something, identical-looking blond women and put the moves on them while L. and I watch from the side of the pool, dangling our feet in the water. L. and I are the only guests who are masked - I won’t leave the cabana, or go anywhere for that matter, without my N95. Intrigued, the “seven brides” join the six men at the “daybed” they reserved - two futons pushed together, with a strip of fabric for shade (no comparison to a cabana) - so there are now 13 people in a group, who just met, talking and shouting since the men are all drunk. A 3-year-old floats up to L. and I and starts coughing. We walk back to our cabana.
L. and I eat and drink the rest of the day, watching HGTV - Flip This House and Forensic Files until they kick us out at 6:00. We only spent $200 of the $400 credit, but our server suggests I buy bottles of wine with the remainder, so I buy champagne and Fiji water for the trip home. I’m stressed about a crowd surge from the pool to the elevators and anxious about riding on packed elevators with other people, but that doesn’t happen because the pool goers, for the most part, refuse to leave. There are a few males who are waiting for the elevator, drunk and yelling about…something…sports? I don’t know, but they’re screaming unintelligible words at each other. None of them are masked and this is happening right in front of L. and I. Finally, we grab an elevator containing only ONE normal, 30-something white male, who is very polite and masked.
6:30 - 7:30 - We arrive at our hotel room and note that the maid service never came. Perhaps this is standard protocol during the pandemic? It happened in Sedona, too. I’m afraid to venture out - all of this is so scary - but L. insists that we go to the Milk Bar for ice cream. Once there, I note that the Milk Bar is out of the majority of their toppings, but I’m able to at least get cornflakes - it tastes ok, but I really just want to go back to our room. Most people are masking inside the casino, but one in three people have their masks UNDER their nose. A sign in one of the stores says, “Wearing a mask also means covering your nose!” People are so gross.
7:30-12:00 - In for the night and I drink several glasses of champagne from the $55 bottle that I bought with my cabana credit and alternate between watching Forensic Files and sitting outside, on the terrace, looking at radically altered Vegas. I have a ton of anxiety and just want to go home.