So, Michael and I went to Las Vegas for a couple of days last week. Would you believe that I've never been there? People are always shocked when I say that. Well, that's not completely true. I went to Vegas when I was eight years old.
My mom and my Nana were some serious gambling fiends, and for whatever reason, they thought my little bro and I would enjoy the trip. All I remember is my mom reaching around to give me a beat down every time I poked my legs into her seat on the long, hot, boring drive...running out of money and sitting just outside the casino at Circus Circus trying to get the attention of my chain-smoking mother and grandmother...staying in a tacky motel room with red carpet.
Years later I learned my mother was horrified to discover two prostitutes were entertaining their johns in the room next to us, and they could hear them through the walls. I just asked my mom today why she even bothered to take us. She said, "Because I couldn't find anyone to babysit you." Nice, mama.
So now, twenty nine years later, I finally have an excuse to go back. Truth be told, my first choice for a vacation destination would be some type of beach and/or art show. We're not the gambling/drinking/partying sort of people. And it's not like I have the $$$ to just plan a trip. But Michael's brother was getting married and he didn't want to miss it, so this was the perfect opportunity for a mini vacay in Vegas.
What is that saying? Whatever happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas?
Yep. *cough cough* I wish I could say we lounged by the pool, ate at fabulous restaurants, caught a show or too...but nah, not quite.
My Vegas Itinerary:
Wed. @ 11: Dropping off the chil'rens with my mama, who so graciously agreed to watch them all. I waved, said my goodbyes and I love yous and my mom snickered, "Wow, that was very enthusiastic!" and I laughed, thinking, we'll see how enthusiastic you are when I come back to pick them up.
Wed. @ noon: Planned to leave at this time, instead...wait for Michael to---> find an outfit for the wedding, change the oil on our car, deposit money in the bank and shave. These were the only four things--four things, count 'em--he was responsible for. Meanwhile, I had already reserved a room/cleaned the house/shopped for travel essentials/packed for both of us/packed for six chil'rens/created homework packets/safely delivered them to their grandma/got feet done/bought cute dress/got hair did/bought snacks for travel. I kept thinking of my sister's words, you are wasting precious Vegas time! Aarrgh.
Breathe in, breathe out.
Wed. @ 4: We pick up Hungry sister in law and we finally get out of dodge.
A couple hours later: Get off in Baker for some ice. Saw an angry lesbian become irate because she paid $4 for an 8 oz. bottle of Dasani. At that moment, I'm very glad I bought that case of water for $3.99 and I didn't care that Michael and Hungry Sister in Law scoffed at the amount of 'travel snacks' I brought. They always do, but I didn't hear anyone complaining as they munched on my Hot Cheetos.
Wed. @ 8: We finally arrive in Vegas. Its just getting dark and its raining. Listened to Hungry sister in law say, for what seemed like the tenth time, you could see the light from the Luxor in outer space. Okay. I think I got it.
Wed. @ 8:15: Shocked at how many people were walking the streets with giant-size funnels of some type of alcoholic beverage. Observing the true distance between hotels (they all look so deceptively close on Mapquest) and thinking these old, fat people know what's up as they whiz past in their little motorized carts.
Wed. @ 9: After some gangsta driving maneuvers, we arrive at Treasure Island. As I get out of our car BAM!! the Vegas heat just hits me in the face like Chris Brown did Rihanna. I can already feel the cuteness melting off my face.
Wed @ 10--midnight: Walk the strip. After walking--or should I say dragging cuz it felt like my husband was pulling me by my arm the entire time-- about a quarter of a mile, starved (Hot Cheetos only fill you up for so long), having already imbibed a cocktail on an empty stomach...I realize that I might not be cut out for this Vegas lifestyle. My issues: my new sandals kinda hurt, the smoke was grossing me out, my rubbing thighs were about to start a forest fire, I was about to stomp a mudhole in one of those people handing out naked lady flyers in my face (p.s just because you put a star over the nipples doesn't make it appropriate) and I just kept fantasizing about that bed with the beautifully crisp white sheets at Treasure Island.
When exactly did I turn into an old lady? Come on, woman--you're in Vegas!
Thurs @ 1 am: Head over to the Hard Rock Casino with some family. We see what we assume is a group of young ladies out on the town, miniskirts and high heeled pumps all around. Until a guy gets out of a car and booms, "Alright b!tches! Get up, its time to get back to work!" and they all stand up, pull down their skirts and clickclack back into the casino. Working girls.
Thurs. @ 4 am: I discover what time it really is. Up until this point, Hungry sister in law keeps telling me, it's still early, Dee. Red Bulls rule. Seriously.
Thurs @ 6: We walk out of the casino to find the sun coming up. I swear, I feel like a vampire, hissing at the sun. Get me to our room, now! I tell Michael. They're hungry but food can wait until tomorrow. I need to put my old, crusty self to bed before I spontaneously combust!
Thurs @ 6--1: Sleep in a gloriously cool, blackened room. We would've slept longer but I set the alarm. We realize we have to go to a wedding in three hours. We eat breakfast/lunch, I take a bath, Michael goes down to the casino...time gets away from us, as it usually does. I discover that my feet are on swoll and have doubled in size! Now I can't fit them into my kitten heel pumps without it looking like a can of biscuits exploded.
Thurs @ 4:45: Walking/running around the Wynn (in sandals, which totally don't go with my outfit but are necessary due to my exploding biscuit feed), trying to find the wedding salons, really hoping they are behind schedule since we were already 45 minutes late.
Thurs @ 5pm: We try to blend in, but they totally know we missed the ceremony. How many people can say they went to Vegas a whole day earlier and still missed the wedding? *cough cough*
Thurs @ 6: Head over to Mexican restaurant for dinner party. I'm greeted with a giant sized margarita. It is shut-yo-mouth-and-say-it-ain't-so-delicious. Totally makes up for the biscuit dough feet.
Thurs @ 9: The words "party bus" gets thrown around. I'm scared.
Thurs @ 10:30--Fri @ 3am: Said party bus is foggy from smoke machine, wet from dranks being spilled all over the seats and it smells like 25 different kinds of sweaty ass.
Fri @ 4 am: Time to end the night. We walk back to our hotel. Michael and Hungry sister in law decide they are hungry. I decide that I am tired. Food can wait. Michael deposits me safely at TI's lobby and they leave. My digestive tract decides it can't wait for me to travel the 18 floors to my room before I hit the toilet. Lobby restrooms it is. I give an apologetic smile to the bathroom attendant as I walk out the door. Then, sleep. Hello, beautifully cool, crisp white sheets.
Fri @ noon: Checkout and hit the Rio buffet, to see what the fuss is about. It was tasty enough. Hungry sister in law categorized all of her plates: Seafood, Italian, Chinese, Salad, and Fried. We spent the rest of the afternoon visiting the places I only saw through the party bus window. But the heat and the excessive amount of people...bah. I just couldn't handle it. And I missed the chil'rens.
We drove home later that day, around seven, to avoid the heat. It was a nice drive, with the sun setting behind the mountains. Will I return to Vegas? Who knows. Maybe in another twenty nine years. Yeh, that sounds good to me.