If you have gone to Vegas you will totally understand this segment of my blog. If you have not, this blog is about my experiences at Vegas and what that encumbered. If you have never been to Vegas I recommend that you go at least once in your life, it is like no other place I have ever been.
I have been to Vegas many times. As many of you already, know I travel with my husband for work from time to time. I have been with him to Vegas many times because: a) there is always a conference here at the time of our anniversary and he has little option but to bring me along (it was in the vows, I take thee to be my lawful wedded wife to have and to hold, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health but most of all in Vegas if I have to travel for work on this exact day for many years to come, til death do us part, probably in Vegas because that place was built on poor choices and high cholesterol.)
b) because some people think that if there should be business done it should happen in Vegas. I mean after all who doesn’t want to seal the deal with a topless stripper on their lap while winning the jackpot on the slot machine whilst all liquored up on free cocktails? *Unless the wife is there in which case it is a simple handshake to signify the bond of the deal.
So those are the reasons that I find myself in Vegas a lot. I sit in the room or at the pool or shopping while my husband goes to work. First of all if you go into the shoppes after a certain age the skin cream stores will beckon you from afar to take their sample. DO NOT EVER ENGAGE THESE PEOPLE UNLESS YOU WANT THE FOLLOWING TO HAPPEN.
“Ma’am, Miss, Miss, Ma’am!” the cute young woman bellows out to me.
I, being me, am all about eye contact and engaging with others. “Yes! I am Ma’am! How can I help you?”
“Free sample?” she hands over this tiny bag to me.
“Ooooh free! Yes, I like that price!” I reach to grab the bag and before I know it she has grabbed my hand and dragged me into her shoppe while saying the following.
“You are so beautiful! People must tell you this all of the time, Yes?” she smiles and looks at my clothes. “Such a beautiful top, did you buy that here in Vegas?”
I find myself bedazzled by the pleasantries and compliments. “Well, thank you! Yes, some people have called me beautiful. No, I bought this back home.” I look down at my shirt because I don’t know what top I even threw on to get out of the room so that housekeeping can clean it.
“Oh, where is home?” she asks and now there is a young beautiful man who comes over to talk with me too.
“I’m from Pennsylvania.” the girl slips out and the man continues the conversation flawlessly.
How did I get in this chair? I wonder.
“I am going to put some of this eye cream on your eyes. Do You mind?” He asks as he is cleaning my face with a wet wipe.
“I guess not!” I say and now I realize that I am no longer in control of the situation.
“This eye cream is amazing. You are a beautiful woman but you don’t want these eye bags to show your real age do you?”
“What? No! I don’t want that!” I say a little embarrassed. Why did I bring my eye bags with me out on this shopping trip? I should have left those bastards at home.
“I didn’t think so. You take such good care of yourself and these eye bags are hard to get rid of after you turn forty, am I right?” Who told him I was forty? What has happened to me?
“I guess.” I look around and think the tone has changed slightly.
As I sit getting my eye bags removed, on one eye only because that’s how they get you. I sit there feeling less beautiful than I did when the young girl called out to me and paid me many compliments. Now the eye cream is ready to be revealed and he shows me the two eyes that I have on my face. One looks like a new baby eye and the other belongs to the woman who made Snow White eat the apple. Holy Shit I do have eye bags and they are the ones with the many compartments in them.
“See this?” he says and points. “This eye is beautiful and young! Yes?”
“Yes, I like that!”
“And this eye makes you look like a sea hag! That’s what you will look like without this eye cream!” He says.
“How much for this clearly needed eye cream?” I ask feeling like I have to at least try.
“For you I will give you a deal.” He smiles, because I can see how beautiful you could be with this new product. “I will sell it to you for two hundred dollars for the large bottle.”
“How much for the small bottle?”
“You, my dear, are going to need the large bottle I am afraid.”
This is every skin cream store in Vegas. I never buy it because some where along the way I am onto them that this is a scam. Most times I am pleased that I said no. One time I think it was just Elmer’s glue they slathered on me. It glued my eye into place, but it had this weird film when I looked at my eye in broad daylight. That’s another thing the lighting in Vegas is dim and shady much like the people selling this eye cream.
At night my husband and I find things to do. As we are walking around the strip there are these people with what my husband refers to as “Clickity Clack Cards”. What are clickity clack cards? They are cards for hookers and the people handing them out make this sound by snapping them. My very first trip to Vegas I was being handed these Clickity Clack Cards left and right. I was just taking them because I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing plus I didn’t want to seem rude. My husband started with “Don’t take those Becki!”
I look at him with my doe eyes and ask “Why not?”
“Becki, stop making eye contact with these people.” He says, “Just put your head down and walk away. Don’t talk to them.”
“But I like people!” I say as my card deck is getting substantially bigger.
“Becki just put your head down and walk on by them!”
I look at my trading card deck and think ‘but now I have to get the whole deck. I’ve got busty lusty ladies, the little titty kitties, the horny asians, the black beauties, the blondes looking for more fun, and chicks with dicks….now all I need is the back door honeys and the GILFs to make my set complete.’
My husband knocks the cards out of my hands and he saids rather rudely to the clickity clack man “No Thank You!!!!” And he puts his hands up over my hands and he brushes the card away, like some sort of porn preventing superhero. He then grabs me by my hand and says “You can’t take those cards, you just have to keep walking and don’t even stop to talk to them.”
I smile and as we walk by the next clickity clack card dispenser I take one and say “Thank you!” because I was raised to be polite.
My husband laughs and says “What am I going to do with you?”
“Well this card has some suggestions!” I say and I laugh and laugh and laugh because I think I am funny.
The last story I am going to tell you happened a few years ago and it was the funniest thing I have seen, to date, in Vegas. We were coming back to our hotel from dinner and you have to show your key card to security in order to even get to the hotel elevators. There standing in front of us is a pack of hookers. Is a group of hookers a pack? A gaggle of hookers? A school of hookers? A hoard of hookers? A hoard of hookers sounds right. We’ll go with that.
There was a hoard of hookers that were standing at the security desk and they were giving the security guy a hard time.
“You cannot get upstairs without a key.” the security guy announces to them.
“We are here to see a friend of ours!” the lead hooker announces. ‘in my mind I have named her Pinky Tuscadero, because of course I did, duh!’
“No ma’am you are not, unless you have a key.”
My husband is standing behind me trying to nudge me forward, but come on who doesn’t want to see how this plays out? So I am standing there with my pure heart and my wide eyes and I am waiting to see if ‘Pinky Tuscadero and the Pink ladies’ ever get up to see their friend. When out of the elevators comes the chaotic mess of a man dressed in nothing but a towel yelling rather frantically “THEY’RE WITH ME! THEY’RE WITH ME! I HAVE A KEY! THEY’RE WITH ME AND I HAVE A KEY!” He’s shiny from sweat or lube or something and he is breathless! I now am intrigued because the plot has thickened. But there is more security encroaching on the suspect and his band of beauties.
It is at this moment when my husband starts pushing me past security while my Vegas virgin eyes are transfixed on the melodrama happening before them. My eyes were like those haunted mansion pictures that follow you, but my eyes were following the smut brother trying to get his hired friends up to his bungalow for a little game of charades or something!
“Becki, don’t make eye contact!” He is hissing in my ear.
I don’t know what my husband thinks happens when you make eye contact. But I have yet to catch a STD from making eye contact with anyone. But there I am making so much eye contact that if there was ever a time to catch a disease from it, this was it.
I get up to our room and I sit down and look at my husband and I laugh so loud and long. That has been the funniest thing I have ever seen in Vegas. I have always felt very blessed to have been there at that particular moment in time. I don’t actually think God was in on that, but if he was it is because he knows I enjoy a good story to tell to all of my friends.
Moral of my story: If you go to Vegas don’t make eye contact unless you want to buy a two hundred bottle of Elmer’s glue, have a large deck of clickity clack cards and witness the most hilarious, and yes a little bit sad, moment in a man’s life where he hired the best time of his life only to be stopped by security!
Until next time:)
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