Off to Vegas with my wife, brother, and sister- in-law. We flew in on Thurs. night and I surprised them all with the (recommended by JCers) Presidential Limo “Champagne and Roses” special, which was one of the greatest ideas ever! No worry about luggage, waiting in line for an hour for a cab or the tour bus to fill up, etc.
After arriving pretty late at the Flamingo the wife and I headed straight to ‘Ritaville for their signature drinks. I prefer the Ultimate, the wife the Italian ‘rita. We ended up downing a couple of those pretty quick while enjoying the sounds of a typically bad cover band playing the same crappy 80’s tunes my band does. Realizing that we had to meet my (non-drinker) brother the next morning we called it a night.
Morning comes and we were walking the Strip just South of Planet Hollywood when we happened upon a cast of characters. No, not the usual ones you’d expect to see in Vegas, but Superman, Spiderman, Batman, and Ironman. Waiting for the light to change a crowd gathered and the various superheroes started striking poses in the hopes of conning someone into a pic with them. Never one to tolerate the porn slappers I was very curious how my brother would react to this bunch of clowns. In true brotherly fashion he waits for the most opportune moment then points towards the posing heroes and yells, “Oh my God, it’s the Invisible Man!” Each of the superheroes turned in unison shocked that their imaginary friend had showed up. I’ve never heard a crowd heckle and laugh as hard as they did at that.
Fri night we joined my brother and sis in law for a nice Mexican dinner over at Caesar’s. The wife and I had been maintaining a steady diet of Cazadores and ginger ale throughout the day so after another couple ritas at dinner we knew game time had finally arrived. We were unsure of which club we wanted to hit and knew all the rumors of how difficult it could be for an “older” couple to gain entry.
The line at Pure wasn’t all that bad and it’s a club we’d wanted to experience for a couple of years so we figured this would be our shot. We stood in a long line behind the velvet ropes but something just wasn’t sitting right with me. Catching the attention of one of the Hosts I asked, “Is this the line for schmucks?” He looked at me a little funny so I asked again, “Schmucks, you know.. nobodys. I don’t know anybody and I’m sure not going to ask if you know who I am. We’re just schmucks. Which line should we be in?” He laughed then pointed to another set of ropes. “You’ll get in faster over there than these wannabe VIP’s do. Have a good time.” Off to the appropriate line for us and after a 20 minute wait we were in!
Being our first experience in a top tier Las Vegas Club we’re totally stoked! Walking down a long hall we run into a sea of people. Decided to head straight to the bar on the right then take a quick walk around the club to get our bearings. We’re soaking in the ambiance, the crowd is getting thicker (in more ways than one) and very douche heavy. Unfortunately our first thought was, “When did Carnival Court move?” Not quite the experience we expected.
Went for the overly crowded dance floor and somehow managed to squeeze just enough room to shake our tail-feathers for a few songs. We like to people watch so we’re scanning the crowd when the wife asks, “Why is nobody dancing?” The packed dance floor is gently swaying to Cee Lo but the majority of the crowd is oblivious. Decent music, awful vibe, so we gave up and headed out.
We dejectedly walked back towards our room when we stumbled past ‘Ritaville. Even though we were not in jeans and tees I was in the mood for a couple of shooters so I grabbed her by the arm and dragged her in. The same cover band from the night before was playing and the crowd, while nobody was dancing at least had a “fun” vibe to it. We downed a couple quick shots with a ‘rita chaser. Before too long we were the lone idiots on the dance floor and way over dressed at that. Of course, once you start something everyone follows. Within 2 songs the floor was pretty full, at least by their standards.
At this point I’ve got no idea how many shots / drinks we’ve put away over the course of the night, nor do I really care but the old lady says she needs to use the facilities. I walk her to the ladies room and head off to relieve myself as well. There’s a line so it takes me a little longer than usual.
Now I’m waiting a safe distance outside the ladies room for my wife to come out. One minute becomes 5, 5 becomes 10 so I’m getting a little concerned. I get a garbled text message from her but that’s nothing new. I send her a text back to hurry up as I’m starting to get worried. Within the next 10 minutes I receive 4 more texts, each one making less sense than the next and the final one is just a jumble of letters. Concern quickly turns into terror.
I asked a few girls walking in to the washroom if they could please check to see if my wife was OK as I’m worried that she passed out on the toilet. As the ladies come out they tell me that nobody is answering to her name but there was a stall with someone in it and it could be her. I try calling her on the phone and sending a few more text messages with no answer. Again, I ask another group of ladies if they could please check on her. One of them comes right back out of the washroom, says that nobody answered but there’s one lady in the stall closest to the door that didn’t respond and she thinks it might be my girl. <and this is where it all goes wrong>
I ask her if there’s any way that when the coast is clear I can check. She says, “Sure, we’re all decent. Come on in.” I put one foot in the door, pound on the occupied stall and scream at the top of my lungs, “HEY, wife! (name omitted for legal reasons) Time to go!” then walk right back out. No answer from stall so this isn’t going well.
Not three minutes later I see a Security making a bee line towards me looking none too happy. He pushes me then asks what the hell I’m doing. I backed away from the restroom, quickly explained what was going on and that I wasn’t looking for trouble. Thankfully I’d been friendly with him earlier in the evening and he was professional enough to give me the benefit of the doubt. He poked his head into the restroom, came out and told me that she wasn’t in there. I could wait 15 more minutes until they closed and check for myself if I didn’t believe it, which I didn’t. I tried texting and calling again to no avail.
After arriving pretty late at the Flamingo the wife and I headed straight to ‘Ritaville for their signature drinks. I prefer the Ultimate, the wife the Italian ‘rita. We ended up downing a couple of those pretty quick while enjoying the sounds of a typically bad cover band playing the same crappy 80’s tunes my band does. Realizing that we had to meet my (non-drinker) brother the next morning we called it a night.
Morning comes and we were walking the Strip just South of Planet Hollywood when we happened upon a cast of characters. No, not the usual ones you’d expect to see in Vegas, but Superman, Spiderman, Batman, and Ironman. Waiting for the light to change a crowd gathered and the various superheroes started striking poses in the hopes of conning someone into a pic with them. Never one to tolerate the porn slappers I was very curious how my brother would react to this bunch of clowns. In true brotherly fashion he waits for the most opportune moment then points towards the posing heroes and yells, “Oh my God, it’s the Invisible Man!” Each of the superheroes turned in unison shocked that their imaginary friend had showed up. I’ve never heard a crowd heckle and laugh as hard as they did at that.
Fri night we joined my brother and sis in law for a nice Mexican dinner over at Caesar’s. The wife and I had been maintaining a steady diet of Cazadores and ginger ale throughout the day so after another couple ritas at dinner we knew game time had finally arrived. We were unsure of which club we wanted to hit and knew all the rumors of how difficult it could be for an “older” couple to gain entry.
The line at Pure wasn’t all that bad and it’s a club we’d wanted to experience for a couple of years so we figured this would be our shot. We stood in a long line behind the velvet ropes but something just wasn’t sitting right with me. Catching the attention of one of the Hosts I asked, “Is this the line for schmucks?” He looked at me a little funny so I asked again, “Schmucks, you know.. nobodys. I don’t know anybody and I’m sure not going to ask if you know who I am. We’re just schmucks. Which line should we be in?” He laughed then pointed to another set of ropes. “You’ll get in faster over there than these wannabe VIP’s do. Have a good time.” Off to the appropriate line for us and after a 20 minute wait we were in!
Being our first experience in a top tier Las Vegas Club we’re totally stoked! Walking down a long hall we run into a sea of people. Decided to head straight to the bar on the right then take a quick walk around the club to get our bearings. We’re soaking in the ambiance, the crowd is getting thicker (in more ways than one) and very douche heavy. Unfortunately our first thought was, “When did Carnival Court move?” Not quite the experience we expected.
Went for the overly crowded dance floor and somehow managed to squeeze just enough room to shake our tail-feathers for a few songs. We like to people watch so we’re scanning the crowd when the wife asks, “Why is nobody dancing?” The packed dance floor is gently swaying to Cee Lo but the majority of the crowd is oblivious. Decent music, awful vibe, so we gave up and headed out.
We dejectedly walked back towards our room when we stumbled past ‘Ritaville. Even though we were not in jeans and tees I was in the mood for a couple of shooters so I grabbed her by the arm and dragged her in. The same cover band from the night before was playing and the crowd, while nobody was dancing at least had a “fun” vibe to it. We downed a couple quick shots with a ‘rita chaser. Before too long we were the lone idiots on the dance floor and way over dressed at that. Of course, once you start something everyone follows. Within 2 songs the floor was pretty full, at least by their standards.
At this point I’ve got no idea how many shots / drinks we’ve put away over the course of the night, nor do I really care but the old lady says she needs to use the facilities. I walk her to the ladies room and head off to relieve myself as well. There’s a line so it takes me a little longer than usual.
Now I’m waiting a safe distance outside the ladies room for my wife to come out. One minute becomes 5, 5 becomes 10 so I’m getting a little concerned. I get a garbled text message from her but that’s nothing new. I send her a text back to hurry up as I’m starting to get worried. Within the next 10 minutes I receive 4 more texts, each one making less sense than the next and the final one is just a jumble of letters. Concern quickly turns into terror.
I asked a few girls walking in to the washroom if they could please check to see if my wife was OK as I’m worried that she passed out on the toilet. As the ladies come out they tell me that nobody is answering to her name but there was a stall with someone in it and it could be her. I try calling her on the phone and sending a few more text messages with no answer. Again, I ask another group of ladies if they could please check on her. One of them comes right back out of the washroom, says that nobody answered but there’s one lady in the stall closest to the door that didn’t respond and she thinks it might be my girl. <and this is where it all goes wrong>
I ask her if there’s any way that when the coast is clear I can check. She says, “Sure, we’re all decent. Come on in.” I put one foot in the door, pound on the occupied stall and scream at the top of my lungs, “HEY, wife! (name omitted for legal reasons) Time to go!” then walk right back out. No answer from stall so this isn’t going well.
Not three minutes later I see a Security making a bee line towards me looking none too happy. He pushes me then asks what the hell I’m doing. I backed away from the restroom, quickly explained what was going on and that I wasn’t looking for trouble. Thankfully I’d been friendly with him earlier in the evening and he was professional enough to give me the benefit of the doubt. He poked his head into the restroom, came out and told me that she wasn’t in there. I could wait 15 more minutes until they closed and check for myself if I didn’t believe it, which I didn’t. I tried texting and calling again to no avail.
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