Friday, August 14, 2009

Back to It

Back from Vegas baby! Had a whiz-bang of a time. The downside was that I was channeling William H Macy in his role as the cooler - but still had fun rolling the dice. George tossed a few more sets than me - actually winning back some of the money that I had squandered before I left for my massage earlier in the day. But, after dinner we hit the tables again and, like magic, all the money won back was lost again. The biggest import in Vegas? Winners. The biggest export in Vegas? Losers. Oh well. I guess that half-bath in the new house plans will be nice as a closet.

As always we got to see a few interesting sights. George had a business meeting on Wednesday morning, so he left the room about 15 minutes earlier than I did on my way to breakfast. When we compared notes later in the morning, we realized that we had both seen the same early 20-something blond, clad only in her hotel bathrobe, messy hair, smeared make-up, stumbling around the elevator banks - absolutely stewed at 8:30 in the morning (and 8:45 in the morning). Poor thing. It must bite realizing it is morning, you are still VERY drunk AND you have absolutely no idea where you are, where your room is OR what floor it is on. She was heading down to 35 when we met up. We shared an elevator where she bounced from wall to wall like a terrycloth pin ball, unable to determine where her center of gravity was. I believe she left in beside the last shot of whatever it was she had been drinking. I thought about her for a good part of the day, wondering if she had found her way back, but since we never saw her again she was either passed out in a large potted plant or somebody had helped her in to her room where she was going to spend the better part of the day on her knees praying that death would come quickly.

And finally, I had been wishing for a couple of days where I could finally warm up all the parts of myself that have been slightly chilled for THE ENTIRE summer here in SF. Nope. No dice (ha ha ha). Yes, it was hot in Vegas. I don't know the temperature exactly, but I'm going to go with more than half as hot as the face of the sun. So, that sort of ruled out spending much time outdoors for me. Indoors in Vegas is kept at a temperature comparable to say, the inside of your every day cryogenic laboratory. Honestly, I was on the look out for that fog type stuff that floats around exposed dry ice. Damn. Within an hour of arriving, I was trolling the shops looking for some kind of wrap to reduce the chicken pox sized goose bumps all over my body.

I observed that this temperature did not thwart your average Vegas visitor from wearing thin sleeveless garments. George the Elder can attest that we saw more nipples standing at attention in any 15 minute period than can normally be seen in any Girls Gone Wild Wet T-shirt video. And that was at 2:00 in the afternoon. Unfortunately, it's kind of like going to topless beaches in Europe. The girls that you WANT to see without their tops on are NOT the ones actually without their tops on. Maybe that's why the topless reviews do well in Vegas. It comes to the point where you are actually willing to pay money to see the good stuff just to get the rest of it out of your head.

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