Unfortunately, I am now back from Vegas. Gonna start my TR right now. I hope it lives up to my previous ones, and I truly think it will!
Prepare!
Monday
Lady GaGa - Monster
Woke up at 5:00am after a little over an hour of sleep. Obviously the Vegas anticipation was killing me. Roommate's boyfriend takes us to downtown Los Angeles to catch our bus. End up freezing our asses off for over an hour waiting for the bus. Finally get on the bus around 7:00am, sit down and start my Vegas playlist. Two minutes in to the first song my iPhone pauses, go to turn it off of pause only to find my entire library of music on the phone had suddenly been erased.
Much cursing ensues. Funny looks from old asian men also occur somewhat simultaneously. I then thank the heavens for Pandora and settle in to my seat.
Bus lets us out for a break in Barstow. I take a smoke break and then nicely settle back in to my seat. Though the seats were not terribly comfortable I managed to fall asleep all the way through Baker, Stateline and Primm. Woke up right next to The Orleans. I had never been so excited to see The Orleans. Wake up Tanu (my roomie) and we begin getting ridiculously excited. We made fabulous time. Considering all the bus stops, we hadn't left Los Angeles until 9:45/10:00am and it was now 1:00pm!
We are let out at the Tropicana, which for those who may not be aware of where that is, it's conveniently across the street from MGM, where we were staying. Get our bags together and head across the street to check in our bags, grab a drink and wait to check in. Now it's about this time that Tanu stops right outside the lion embossed doors and yells fuck. She left a bag on the bus. We scurry furiously in to the MGM, check in the bags and grab a cab to The Riveria (the last stop on the bus). Cabbie drops us off in the wrong parking lot of The Riveria. Run across the casino to get to the proper parking lot. We intercept the bus just in time. We grab the bag, grab a cab and go. The cabbie was hilarious, and we talked Vegas and the economy. And how much he'd love to get Beyonce in the sack. We tipped him well.
Check in to the MGM around 2:00. After nearly getting in to a fight with a man who thought I was crowding him (I had to go get the roomie's credit card and then had come back to put the proper one on file) we get up to our room. Set up the bar (I mean obviously it takes precedence) and put the rest of the shit away. Climb in to bed for a nap.
Have a nap and the beautification process begins! Eventually the process that we started Monday would be the same pattern we'd follow for the rest of the trip.
Shower. Blow Dry. Shot
Straighten. Shot
Make up. Shot
Outfit. Vodka Redbull and a cigarette at Zuri.
Wait for roommate to finish her make up. Have another shot.
We head to Jet and get in to the line. There are about six different lines, and I choose the one where there are nothing but pretty ladies. I figure this is the best line. I had guestlisted ourselves but the man with the clipboard was talking to some bottle service types. We wait long enough to talk shoes with the girls in line (about two minutes). One girl hands us free ladies coupons and we walk right in. Head to the bar and pound some kamikazes. Tanu hadn't been to Jet before so I walked her around and to show her exactly where the bathrooms were. The crowd was a decent size, but it wasn't nearly at the capacity it usually runs on a Monday. We plant at the bar, have a few cigarettes and fight with a bartender over getting a glass of tap water. I persuade (by I, I mean The Twins) the male bartender to sneak me a glass. Success!
About an hour passes and the alcohol isn't doing the job it's supposed to. We are still only slightly less than sober and the crowd is ugly. If that makes me shallow, which I'm sure it does - fuck off. The men were ugly as fuck and the only hot women were already on the poles shaking their asses (or standing around the bar
). Tanu and I hit the dance floor and start to shake our asses.
Now I'd like to point out that the DJ (I want to say DJ Vice, but I can't be sure) was either off his game or had a personal vendetta against me. I'll choose to believe the latter, since I was starting to finally feel a buzz. He couldn't keep a song on for longer than 30 seconds. Just when we'd really start to get in to it he'd switch it a completely different song with a semi-rough transition.
We tire of the shitty music selection and take another tour around the now much more filled up club. We round the back end of the club and a guy stops in front of me, places his hands on the sides of The Twins and proclaims, "HOLY SHIT!!" It was at this point I did what I can only describe as a "Praying Mantis" style kung-fu move on his drunk ass. I chopped the fuck out of his arms, kicked him in the shins and replied, "WHAT THE FUCK!!" His friend quickly grabbed his arm and walked off in shame.
Tanu and I dance more then back to the bar, end up scoring a round of free drinks from a severely drunk Frenchman. Quickly gather the drinks and run away from S.D.FM. Tanu and I get lightly caressed on our shoulders by a host. He asks if we'd like to come up to a table. We agree, but first have to run to the bathroom. Come back to find the host is MIA. We loiter around the upper balcony of the tables and he returns about five minutes later. We walk up and find the table we were meant to help occupy is now rather occupied with women.
But we shant be discouraged!
The table right next to that there is a fairly good-looking man who, with the most cooth I can convey - eye fucked the shit out of me. Tanu demands I go dance with him (he was dancing by himself). I muster all the liquid-courage courage I have and go about dancing with him. We sit, pour drinks and are joined by his friend. Turns out, they are from Denmark, and one is a professional Danish footballer and the other is his manager. Now, it is at this time I will say that the only bottle remaining was Jack Daniels. Up to that point we had stuck mostly to vodka drinks. I choose to drink JD straight on the rocks, which somehow impresses the Danish men and makes Tanu gag.
Hey, I had to get drunk somehow, right?
Footballer and Tanu are dancing, flirting etc etc. Now the initial Danish man (Jacob I believe was his name) was starting to not look so hot. Eyes glazing over, starting to sway about. Not good.
I walk him to the bathroom, I figure this is the least I could do since I was now incredibly drunk off his alcohol. I wait for him to finish and get chatted up by an Irishman who is waiting for, in his words, "Some slag who attached herself to my arm" to come out of the bathroom. He tries his best to woo me, but his efforts fail. He even continued to flirt with me once the "slag" had come out of the bathroom. Feisty!
Danishman comes out of the bathroom. He was the epitome of puke and rally. We get back to the table and he is a dancing fiend! Starts swing dancing with me and Tanu. I grow tired of being constantly twirled around, so I sit down and help myself to the free cigarettes and Jack. Now the footballer at this point decides it's time that I get a lapdance. I took it like a champ. Pity I didn't have any ones.
Now this is where the story gets fuzzy since our dearest friend Jack Daniels had done his job. Tanu disappears and Jacob disappears. I sit, alone now at the table admiring the crowd and sipping on my drink. Footballer returns with two new lady friends. The girls and I get to chatting and as it turns out one of them works across the street from me in Los Angeles. Small world! Footballer seems amused and irritated at the same time. One of the girls takes off and isn't seen from again until the very very end of the night. Tiffany, the girl who works close to my work, is now in the lap of the Footballer and we take a shot of Jack and continue bullshitting about things I can't remember.
Tanu is still gone, I'm texting her and getting no response. Fear sets in a bit, but my dear friend Jack Daniels wasn't going to let that stop me from having a good night. One of Tiffany's friends comes up to the table. A male friend this time. He and I go for a dance, have a flirt, a few drinks and some rather interesting exchange of words.
Tanu finally comes back, she had been in the bathroom praying to the porcelain god. But all is well now and we are ready to dance! She starts dancing with the host, I'm dancing with Tiffany's friend, Tiffany is making out with the footballer - all is well in the world!
End up clearing out of the Mirage around 4. Tiffany's friend offers to take us home and we accept (he was local). Tanu and I end up back at the MGM completely knackered and ready for sleep.
Instead tea is consumed, laughs are had and we don't end up asleep until 9:00am.
Wonderful way to start the trip.
Prepare!
Monday
Lady GaGa - Monster
Woke up at 5:00am after a little over an hour of sleep. Obviously the Vegas anticipation was killing me. Roommate's boyfriend takes us to downtown Los Angeles to catch our bus. End up freezing our asses off for over an hour waiting for the bus. Finally get on the bus around 7:00am, sit down and start my Vegas playlist. Two minutes in to the first song my iPhone pauses, go to turn it off of pause only to find my entire library of music on the phone had suddenly been erased.
Much cursing ensues. Funny looks from old asian men also occur somewhat simultaneously. I then thank the heavens for Pandora and settle in to my seat.
Bus lets us out for a break in Barstow. I take a smoke break and then nicely settle back in to my seat. Though the seats were not terribly comfortable I managed to fall asleep all the way through Baker, Stateline and Primm. Woke up right next to The Orleans. I had never been so excited to see The Orleans. Wake up Tanu (my roomie) and we begin getting ridiculously excited. We made fabulous time. Considering all the bus stops, we hadn't left Los Angeles until 9:45/10:00am and it was now 1:00pm!
We are let out at the Tropicana, which for those who may not be aware of where that is, it's conveniently across the street from MGM, where we were staying. Get our bags together and head across the street to check in our bags, grab a drink and wait to check in. Now it's about this time that Tanu stops right outside the lion embossed doors and yells fuck. She left a bag on the bus. We scurry furiously in to the MGM, check in the bags and grab a cab to The Riveria (the last stop on the bus). Cabbie drops us off in the wrong parking lot of The Riveria. Run across the casino to get to the proper parking lot. We intercept the bus just in time. We grab the bag, grab a cab and go. The cabbie was hilarious, and we talked Vegas and the economy. And how much he'd love to get Beyonce in the sack. We tipped him well.
Check in to the MGM around 2:00. After nearly getting in to a fight with a man who thought I was crowding him (I had to go get the roomie's credit card and then had come back to put the proper one on file) we get up to our room. Set up the bar (I mean obviously it takes precedence) and put the rest of the shit away. Climb in to bed for a nap.
Have a nap and the beautification process begins! Eventually the process that we started Monday would be the same pattern we'd follow for the rest of the trip.
Shower. Blow Dry. Shot
Straighten. Shot
Make up. Shot
Outfit. Vodka Redbull and a cigarette at Zuri.
Wait for roommate to finish her make up. Have another shot.
We head to Jet and get in to the line. There are about six different lines, and I choose the one where there are nothing but pretty ladies. I figure this is the best line. I had guestlisted ourselves but the man with the clipboard was talking to some bottle service types. We wait long enough to talk shoes with the girls in line (about two minutes). One girl hands us free ladies coupons and we walk right in. Head to the bar and pound some kamikazes. Tanu hadn't been to Jet before so I walked her around and to show her exactly where the bathrooms were. The crowd was a decent size, but it wasn't nearly at the capacity it usually runs on a Monday. We plant at the bar, have a few cigarettes and fight with a bartender over getting a glass of tap water. I persuade (by I, I mean The Twins) the male bartender to sneak me a glass. Success!
About an hour passes and the alcohol isn't doing the job it's supposed to. We are still only slightly less than sober and the crowd is ugly. If that makes me shallow, which I'm sure it does - fuck off. The men were ugly as fuck and the only hot women were already on the poles shaking their asses (or standing around the bar
). Tanu and I hit the dance floor and start to shake our asses.Now I'd like to point out that the DJ (I want to say DJ Vice, but I can't be sure) was either off his game or had a personal vendetta against me. I'll choose to believe the latter, since I was starting to finally feel a buzz. He couldn't keep a song on for longer than 30 seconds. Just when we'd really start to get in to it he'd switch it a completely different song with a semi-rough transition.
We tire of the shitty music selection and take another tour around the now much more filled up club. We round the back end of the club and a guy stops in front of me, places his hands on the sides of The Twins and proclaims, "HOLY SHIT!!" It was at this point I did what I can only describe as a "Praying Mantis" style kung-fu move on his drunk ass. I chopped the fuck out of his arms, kicked him in the shins and replied, "WHAT THE FUCK!!" His friend quickly grabbed his arm and walked off in shame.
Tanu and I dance more then back to the bar, end up scoring a round of free drinks from a severely drunk Frenchman. Quickly gather the drinks and run away from S.D.FM. Tanu and I get lightly caressed on our shoulders by a host. He asks if we'd like to come up to a table. We agree, but first have to run to the bathroom. Come back to find the host is MIA. We loiter around the upper balcony of the tables and he returns about five minutes later. We walk up and find the table we were meant to help occupy is now rather occupied with women.
But we shant be discouraged!
The table right next to that there is a fairly good-looking man who, with the most cooth I can convey - eye fucked the shit out of me. Tanu demands I go dance with him (he was dancing by himself). I muster all the liquid-courage courage I have and go about dancing with him. We sit, pour drinks and are joined by his friend. Turns out, they are from Denmark, and one is a professional Danish footballer and the other is his manager. Now, it is at this time I will say that the only bottle remaining was Jack Daniels. Up to that point we had stuck mostly to vodka drinks. I choose to drink JD straight on the rocks, which somehow impresses the Danish men and makes Tanu gag.
Hey, I had to get drunk somehow, right?
Footballer and Tanu are dancing, flirting etc etc. Now the initial Danish man (Jacob I believe was his name) was starting to not look so hot. Eyes glazing over, starting to sway about. Not good.
I walk him to the bathroom, I figure this is the least I could do since I was now incredibly drunk off his alcohol. I wait for him to finish and get chatted up by an Irishman who is waiting for, in his words, "Some slag who attached herself to my arm" to come out of the bathroom. He tries his best to woo me, but his efforts fail. He even continued to flirt with me once the "slag" had come out of the bathroom. Feisty!
Danishman comes out of the bathroom. He was the epitome of puke and rally. We get back to the table and he is a dancing fiend! Starts swing dancing with me and Tanu. I grow tired of being constantly twirled around, so I sit down and help myself to the free cigarettes and Jack. Now the footballer at this point decides it's time that I get a lapdance. I took it like a champ. Pity I didn't have any ones.
Now this is where the story gets fuzzy since our dearest friend Jack Daniels had done his job. Tanu disappears and Jacob disappears. I sit, alone now at the table admiring the crowd and sipping on my drink. Footballer returns with two new lady friends. The girls and I get to chatting and as it turns out one of them works across the street from me in Los Angeles. Small world! Footballer seems amused and irritated at the same time. One of the girls takes off and isn't seen from again until the very very end of the night. Tiffany, the girl who works close to my work, is now in the lap of the Footballer and we take a shot of Jack and continue bullshitting about things I can't remember.
Tanu is still gone, I'm texting her and getting no response. Fear sets in a bit, but my dear friend Jack Daniels wasn't going to let that stop me from having a good night. One of Tiffany's friends comes up to the table. A male friend this time. He and I go for a dance, have a flirt, a few drinks and some rather interesting exchange of words.
Tanu finally comes back, she had been in the bathroom praying to the porcelain god. But all is well now and we are ready to dance! She starts dancing with the host, I'm dancing with Tiffany's friend, Tiffany is making out with the footballer - all is well in the world!
End up clearing out of the Mirage around 4. Tiffany's friend offers to take us home and we accept (he was local). Tanu and I end up back at the MGM completely knackered and ready for sleep.
Instead tea is consumed, laughs are had and we don't end up asleep until 9:00am.
Wonderful way to start the trip.
Gotta love Aria... shes so big they named a hotel after her...
Comment