4 EPIC nights in Vegas... what doesn't kill us makes us stronger
It has been about 48 hours since I’ve returned from Las Vegas and it’s just now that I feel sober and able to type.
There aren’t many TR’s from girls so some of you may find it entertaining.
My last trip to Sin City was in October of last year for a friend’s birthday and there were 7 of us. This time it was just my best friend and I. Completely changed the game and guys were on us like white on rice which made for a memorable trip to say the least.
Get in late on Friday after a 2 hour flight fueled by vodka and Sprite, head to our castle, the Excalibur, unpack, shower, get our party panties on and head to Surrender. [HUGE THANKS to Mikey T for helping out with guest lists all weekend to avoid the lines.] Get to Surrender, walk right in, check out the beauty of the venue, remind each other to make sure to stay out of the pool, and proceed to stroll around the pool. Some gentlemen who had a VIP bed asked us to join which resulted in Belvedere all night and helping them ward off the working girls as they were clearly not interested in paying. Exchanged numbers and never heard from them again. Armand Van Helden was killer. Overall a good start to the weekend.
Saturday day was spent rehydrating, hitting up the Spa at Aria, getting a massage, throwing on a dress and heading to the Mirage to see the Beatles LOVE Cirque Du Soleil. Great show and we brought just enough vodka to get us tipsy by the end of it. We then hit up King’s Ink for more free booze, met two lovely Australian lads who introduced themselves as Marco and Dial which actually turned out to be Michael and Dayle and invited us to the Bare pool the next day. We moved on to the Marquee to see Kaskade but by the time we got there it was after 1 am and the wait to get in was 2 hours. No amount of name-dropping or skin showing was going to get us past the blue rope. Disappointed but not discouraged we walked across the Strip and ended up at Krave, the alternative bar, where a friend was DJ’ing. We walked in and there were video cameras everywhere and a number of scantily-clad women and a number of men. Rather weird for a lesbo bar. Turned out that some broad from Rock of Love (Brett Michael’s whore) was celebrating her album release party there and the guest of honor was… COOLIO! Hahahaha. Gangsta’s Paradise was all we could think of and proceeded to take pictures with him. After 5 rounds of shots thanks to his entourage and their very lame attempts at hitting on us we decided it was time to go. It was 4 or 4:30 in the am and our feet were killing. So instead of Kaskade we got Coolio. A pretty fair swap if you ask me. Made it back to the castle and peacefully passed out.
Sunday we head to Bare at the Mirage with Marco and Dial (they were staying there), planning on hitting up the Rehab grand opening later on but getting to relaxed/intoxicated/entertained by the Australians to get off the day bed. Had dinner at Diablo’s on the Strip simply for the people watching. While walking down the strip were approached by 2 gentlemen who asked if we wanted to go to the strip club with them. Turned out they were going to the male dancer strip club and assumed we were interested. Um, no, thanks. We also learned that girls wouldn’t be let into some strip clubs without males accompanying us as we may try to work the clientele. Interesting and smart. Back to the story: Our plan was to hit up The Bank for their Industry Night as I heard it was good on Sundays. Didn’t make it there till almost 1 am as I had a lash-glue-in-the-eye incident and the friend had some dress issues. Got to the Bellagio, took pictures of the pretty stuff, ran into a bachelor party, and walked into Bank after dropping a name of some promoter whose list we definitely weren’t on. The perks of being a girl – walk right in. The dance floor is packed, all the tables are sold/taken, and the clientele is a lot more pleasant than on Friday/Saturday nights. While walking by one of the security guards, we get invited to join a table with some guys from New York. Hang out with them, dance, drink, socialize. The DJ announces that Larry Johnson, retired NBA player, is in the house. Guess where? Table right next to us. He’s handing over Banjamins and drinking Belvedere out of the bottle, throwing dollar bills around. They only stayed for a bit and the New Yorkers wanted to know what we were doing after. Friend said she was tired, I said I would be down for after hours. So myself, 2 other NYC guys and 2 other girls that were at their table head over to Drai’s. The guys get a table, so we walk right in. Most people there literally had just walked across the street from the Bank so the party continued. Two hours and 3 bottles later, I’m ready to call it a night and the New Yorker asked if I wanted to smoke. You know, it’s Vegas, why not. He’d been polite and seemed pretty clean cut so I didn’t see a problem. We cab to the castle, smoke in the parking lot at which point he tries to invite himself to my room and I hand him $5 and direct him to the cabs. Smart, I know. I head to the room, my key doesn’t work, it’s 5:30 am and I have to go back downstairs to get a new one. Then I start to feel funny, go sit at the bar and get a drink. This boy from Kalamazoo, MI tells me that I’m his dream woman and that he wants to marry me and asks to go watch the sunrise with him. We watch the sunrise at the overpass from the Excalibur to New York New York and I peace out to go back to my room. I proceed to realize that the green was laced with something, guessing PCP, as it’s almost 8 am, I can’t sleep, and feel like death. Learned a valuable lesson that day, all take note.
I nap for a few and Monday continues to be rough. We were going to hit up the Marquee Dayclub but could only make it to the Mandalay Bay beach. By 7 pm we decided that dinner was in order and went to Red Square, the Russian restaurant at Mandalay. I opted for more vodka, had some caviar and was ready for the night. We headed to XS rather early and got the night going at 11 with some drink passes in hand. Afrojack was amazing, we met some Scottish guys who were nice to chat with and were down for a dance party! I headed back to the hotel at the very early hour of 5 am and hoped that I would make the flight home. I did. I BARELY cleared security as my dress kept setting off the metal detectors. Yes, I was that girl at the airport and I am not ashamed to admit it.
Another Vegas weekend complete. Next one in September. Time to condition.
There aren’t many TR’s from girls so some of you may find it entertaining.
My last trip to Sin City was in October of last year for a friend’s birthday and there were 7 of us. This time it was just my best friend and I. Completely changed the game and guys were on us like white on rice which made for a memorable trip to say the least.
Get in late on Friday after a 2 hour flight fueled by vodka and Sprite, head to our castle, the Excalibur, unpack, shower, get our party panties on and head to Surrender. [HUGE THANKS to Mikey T for helping out with guest lists all weekend to avoid the lines.] Get to Surrender, walk right in, check out the beauty of the venue, remind each other to make sure to stay out of the pool, and proceed to stroll around the pool. Some gentlemen who had a VIP bed asked us to join which resulted in Belvedere all night and helping them ward off the working girls as they were clearly not interested in paying. Exchanged numbers and never heard from them again. Armand Van Helden was killer. Overall a good start to the weekend.
Saturday day was spent rehydrating, hitting up the Spa at Aria, getting a massage, throwing on a dress and heading to the Mirage to see the Beatles LOVE Cirque Du Soleil. Great show and we brought just enough vodka to get us tipsy by the end of it. We then hit up King’s Ink for more free booze, met two lovely Australian lads who introduced themselves as Marco and Dial which actually turned out to be Michael and Dayle and invited us to the Bare pool the next day. We moved on to the Marquee to see Kaskade but by the time we got there it was after 1 am and the wait to get in was 2 hours. No amount of name-dropping or skin showing was going to get us past the blue rope. Disappointed but not discouraged we walked across the Strip and ended up at Krave, the alternative bar, where a friend was DJ’ing. We walked in and there were video cameras everywhere and a number of scantily-clad women and a number of men. Rather weird for a lesbo bar. Turned out that some broad from Rock of Love (Brett Michael’s whore) was celebrating her album release party there and the guest of honor was… COOLIO! Hahahaha. Gangsta’s Paradise was all we could think of and proceeded to take pictures with him. After 5 rounds of shots thanks to his entourage and their very lame attempts at hitting on us we decided it was time to go. It was 4 or 4:30 in the am and our feet were killing. So instead of Kaskade we got Coolio. A pretty fair swap if you ask me. Made it back to the castle and peacefully passed out.
Sunday we head to Bare at the Mirage with Marco and Dial (they were staying there), planning on hitting up the Rehab grand opening later on but getting to relaxed/intoxicated/entertained by the Australians to get off the day bed. Had dinner at Diablo’s on the Strip simply for the people watching. While walking down the strip were approached by 2 gentlemen who asked if we wanted to go to the strip club with them. Turned out they were going to the male dancer strip club and assumed we were interested. Um, no, thanks. We also learned that girls wouldn’t be let into some strip clubs without males accompanying us as we may try to work the clientele. Interesting and smart. Back to the story: Our plan was to hit up The Bank for their Industry Night as I heard it was good on Sundays. Didn’t make it there till almost 1 am as I had a lash-glue-in-the-eye incident and the friend had some dress issues. Got to the Bellagio, took pictures of the pretty stuff, ran into a bachelor party, and walked into Bank after dropping a name of some promoter whose list we definitely weren’t on. The perks of being a girl – walk right in. The dance floor is packed, all the tables are sold/taken, and the clientele is a lot more pleasant than on Friday/Saturday nights. While walking by one of the security guards, we get invited to join a table with some guys from New York. Hang out with them, dance, drink, socialize. The DJ announces that Larry Johnson, retired NBA player, is in the house. Guess where? Table right next to us. He’s handing over Banjamins and drinking Belvedere out of the bottle, throwing dollar bills around. They only stayed for a bit and the New Yorkers wanted to know what we were doing after. Friend said she was tired, I said I would be down for after hours. So myself, 2 other NYC guys and 2 other girls that were at their table head over to Drai’s. The guys get a table, so we walk right in. Most people there literally had just walked across the street from the Bank so the party continued. Two hours and 3 bottles later, I’m ready to call it a night and the New Yorker asked if I wanted to smoke. You know, it’s Vegas, why not. He’d been polite and seemed pretty clean cut so I didn’t see a problem. We cab to the castle, smoke in the parking lot at which point he tries to invite himself to my room and I hand him $5 and direct him to the cabs. Smart, I know. I head to the room, my key doesn’t work, it’s 5:30 am and I have to go back downstairs to get a new one. Then I start to feel funny, go sit at the bar and get a drink. This boy from Kalamazoo, MI tells me that I’m his dream woman and that he wants to marry me and asks to go watch the sunrise with him. We watch the sunrise at the overpass from the Excalibur to New York New York and I peace out to go back to my room. I proceed to realize that the green was laced with something, guessing PCP, as it’s almost 8 am, I can’t sleep, and feel like death. Learned a valuable lesson that day, all take note.
I nap for a few and Monday continues to be rough. We were going to hit up the Marquee Dayclub but could only make it to the Mandalay Bay beach. By 7 pm we decided that dinner was in order and went to Red Square, the Russian restaurant at Mandalay. I opted for more vodka, had some caviar and was ready for the night. We headed to XS rather early and got the night going at 11 with some drink passes in hand. Afrojack was amazing, we met some Scottish guys who were nice to chat with and were down for a dance party! I headed back to the hotel at the very early hour of 5 am and hoped that I would make the flight home. I did. I BARELY cleared security as my dress kept setting off the metal detectors. Yes, I was that girl at the airport and I am not ashamed to admit it.
Another Vegas weekend complete. Next one in September. Time to condition.
and Lol COOLIO!? Gangstas paradise YEEEEE! hahaha
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