Hi everyone! Sheesh*, time flies when you’re constantly asking life questions. I hope you’re all great this fine Thursday. I have a question for you. What is the perfect quick getaway mini-vacation from Los Angeles, when you don’t have a job, you have no business gambling and your boyfriend has a birthday? Yes! Las Vegas. *[I never say “sheesh” in real life. It is likely I am channeling the happily sleeping elderly here at the library; seems like something they would say.]
Choosing Las Vegas was not difficult, mostly because we both love anything that involves lights, glitter, swimming pools and any place with food/ drinks delivered directly to your raft with zero to little effort. So, we booked flights and headed out Saturday a.m. Secretly and only on the inside I became burdened by earlier perceptions of Vegas, virgin to its charm, its glow, its accommodating and supportive gambling addiction copy printed everywhere, “Know when to stop before you start”. Thank you! That is very helpful!
I had always thought of the dark side- the destitute chain smokers whose only companion is an oxygen tank on wheels, the terrible, terrible food courts that serve pretend spicy tuna rolls from a rollaway refrigerator, naked lady cards handed out on the street…well maybe those are kind of cool. I mean where else can you get free pocket sized almost-porn just for having an open mind and heart to those little street soldiers throwing them out, their very profession balancing cautiously on how many they can give away each day? Although a strange and violating system, it seems to have worked enough to still be around.
Anyway, I buried those thoughts deep, deep in a vault and sided with illusions of winning millions of dollars, shopping at the Wynn and being comped the suite from the movie The Hangover.
Well dear readers, I imagine not surprisingly there were two sides of this Vegas adventure. There is a fancy side, and then there’s the side that can slap you in the face at any given moment when you’re not paying attention. Now I recognize the point is to be so devoid of attention that you lose all track of time, relationship status and your wallet- still, following is a quick review of things that, if questioned personally, I would modify or adjust:
- “Hot babes” delivery trucks. This is unbelievable to me. How can you advertise hot babes on the side of a moving van truck? Are there really hot babes in there? Once when we were losing our asses at blackjack, I daydreamed of running out into the street, opening the latch from the back of the moving van, and letting 10s of hot babes out into the street for fresh air and freedom, a scene not far from one of those border patrol episodes where the police rescue illegal aliens from the same-sized sweaty confined space. What fame and fortune I would relish! These hot babes would hoist me up on their bony shoulders for an imminent street parade right on Las Vegas Avenue. I didn’t do it. For lots of obvious reasons I’ll let you conclude on your own.
- Hot vs. Smart. There are some redeeming good-looking people in Las Vegas. However after a few run-ins, my theory on hot vs. smart was further vindicated this weekend, evidenced by the below graph I made for Mark the other morning. [As a reminder, I love graphs to quickly explain a point. And graph paper. Also any sort of school supply, gadget or new technology.]
- I had to plainly explain to Mark that this graph does not apply to me. He laughed. And then saw I was serious as a heart attack. Then he agreed. So we are still together. I’m more in the upper right.
- If you are in the red box area, as the sad face indicates, you may be in deep shit. Sorry.
- Little kid bachelorette/ bachelor parties. This is a big one folks. No offense, but I’ve not understood the theory on getting married when you’re barely old enough to procreate biologically. Not only should you not be betrothed to another baby human being, but also you are definitely not yet aware of your surroundings, or the implication you have on the surroundings of others. Innocently enough we sat “adult” poolside at the Rio Saturday, only to be met by a baseball game where the bat was a giant blowup penis, and the balls were little squishy, spikey haired things that looked like doggy chew toys. Probably our first mistake was this pool, however the game afforded us: an empty beer bucket landing on my head, panties* landing on Mark’s outstretched hand behind him, and both of us vaulting ourselves into crankyoldpersontown.
*We later learned the panties turned out to be a tank top. PHEW.
- Watching people gamble that shouldn’t be gambling. Initially this section was much more defined but it made me depressed a little! We can’t have that. So I’ll just leave it at this lesson- just make sure you identify little fictitious moneybags before you gamble labeled, “Yes! This you can use without feeling like hell if it’s gone” and “NO. Don’t go here, unless you would like your confidence as a morally engaged, functioning adult beaten down to danger levels”.
And, there is the fancy side. We had a fabulous time with the debutante side of Vegas, which is where I mostly prefer to be at all times in any situation. Following is a breakdown of the fancy:
- The Palms 5-course chefs taster menu at Nove Italiano. Typically I dislike “omg”, but, omg. This food was lovely. We admired other foodies sipping champagne and snapping photos of one another underneath lilac-colored chandeliers, practicing our rich person laugh that involves a deep, sincere cackle followed by expressive head cocked backwards. Dorks.
- Playboy Club at the top of the Palms. We had no business being there necessarily. But it was fancy, so we had to stay. There is a certain austere and welcomed pompousness to this club, qualities I suppose I’ve assigned to the Playboy mark, but never experienced first hand. The women’s restroom walls are made of naked lady mosaic! I am so impressed.
- Bartolotta Restaurant at the Wynn. This is by far the most fancy restaurant I’ve been to in recent memory. Not necessarily décor (the carpet had weird bright colored geometry against a black background…hmm), but more on a scale of waiter and patron snobbery. Ordinarily I appreciate any form of well-deserved attitude, but unfortunately I was a little taken aback by 1 of our 75 waiters wheeling over an aquarium of uniquely enormous dead* fish on ice, allegedly flown in from the Mediterranean that day…their wide eyeballs staring at us as if to plead selfishly, “Pick him, not me! Before I was caught I ate an old cellphone case and some styrofoam I found in the ocean!”
*There was also a lobster that was half dead, a fact explained to us after the waiter tapped on this strange ice-packed fish case and addressed the poor creature exclaiming, “Hey guy! Still up?” then back to us, “Really fresh seafood guys.” No shit. Allow me to excuse myself while I call Crustacean Protective Services, sobbing from the bathroom. Menu options officially narrowed.
- Venus pool at Caesar’s. Now, I have a mini love/ hate with this pool. It was beautiful and it really made you feel as if you were taking sun from an ancient Grecian bathhouse [if the Grecians also happened to have giant yellow Vueve Cliquot cabanas]. This being said, it would have been my preference to be presented with some sort of a dbag warning label upon entering, like the size of a 7-11 “now serving 32 oz. slurpees!” banner arranged informatively across the entry way. In fact, maybe a whole button system might be developed. At the entry you could choose from the following, just to remove all the pretense:
- Hi! Yes these are fake, feel free to touch! OR Hi! Yes these are real. No touching.
- Yes, I am married but at poolside situations I much prefer this escort I won in a screamingly fast and inebriated round of craps last night. [Available for both men and women].
- We are completely normal and are here on normal vacation, but do not wish to spend $1500 minimum to sit on a king-sized lawn chair bed that maintains the same aroma of stripper lotion. So we will remain here on the concrete by the pool with the rest of the modest.
On further thought, it’s very fun to guess how these people got to the Venus pool and what they plan to contribute throughout the day. Button system idea retracted. Carry on, friends of scandal and silicon.
So, while it seems ridiculous to have a vacation from vacation, I still had an adventure and a reprieve, one that served to share an interesting magnification on human culture and review. This may seem like too far-reaching a derivation from a trip to the city of sin, nevertheless it’s important to me during this time off to consider both the good and my perception of bad. In any situation we will always have both sides, either pointing at us laughing, or offering an extended, revealing hand.
I hope this week you are sharing and learning the emphasis of both the good and bad in your life. Write it down, talk through it, weigh your options. You may find both leading you to your next step.