Sky Auction gets regular visits from Chuck, who is always looking for the ultimate deal. And because I am now on crutches, I can’t get around as easily as I’d like to. In fact, I spent many, many hours indoors because of my inability to move. However, within walking distance are mini marts and video stores galore.

The Park Lane is not an easy place to research on the Internet (RCI property), so we are left clueless as to what awaits us. It sits across from the huge Sands Hotel & Casino, and its guests can use the Sands Parking facilities at no charge. Were it not for a small red awning displaying its name, we would be hard-pressed to find the Park Lane. The main door looks no larger than an ordinary apartment door. Once inside, someone has taken the trouble to “deck the hall” with the prerequisite tree, garlands, piped-in holiday music (thank heavens you can’t hear it once you’re in the elevator), and infant Jesus in a straw basket. It smells very clean, and that has me beaming. The elevator is showing its age through a rather beat-up green carpet and a door that intends to slam shut no matter how many people need to board.

Lucky again, our room is on the 8th floor, and that allows us to view the city with all its lights. We are in the last room on the floor, which is a road trip if you are hopping on one leg. Chuck’s magical streak is right on again: this is an apartment with a separate bedroom, living room with sofa-bed, full operating kitchen with all needed utensils, eat-in nook, early '70s wallpaper, and two TV sets, which is more than I own. The bathroom is quite spacious, and the tub reveals its age by the fixtures attached to it. Taking a shower is a challenge, as there is practically no water pressure and you must act fast. I was disappointed not to find shampoo/conditioner. A few small bars of dial soap and plenty of clean towels is all you get. There is a hair dryer in one of the closets with lots of extra pillows and blankets. Housekeeping is once a week.

The apartment’s heating system is temperamental. We are either freezing or suffocating, with no way to regulate the climate ourselves. A fire extinguisher system has been installed as an afterthought, or perhaps a building-code requirement. It’s quite comfortable and roomy but will not win any decorator awards. The carpet is wall to wall, except in the kitchen and bath, and is pool-table green. The chintz on the bedspread and the couch upholstery is dated as well. Forget the art on the wall, if one can call it art. And my absolute worst nightmare is present in the living room, in the form of plastic flowers and plants.

But, I’d come back in a heartbeat.