Friday, February 3, 2012

Las Vegas

On a whim, (my favorite way to do most things,) I took a quick trip across the country to Las Vegas. 2 days and 1 night for $200, who could resist?
My sister and I left the airport at 6am Nashville time and landed a little before 11am Sin City time. We mapped out our agenda ever so carefully and hit the ground running, cramming four days worth into 1 ½. Our main objective ended up being to see 2, possibly 3 shows that night. We found a $100 special for all, so we narrowed it down to:
·        Criss Angel (an illusion master/magician)
·        Menopause (the musical) and of course,
·        THUNDER FROM DOWN UNDER. (For the unaware: Hot Australian men who dance to music and wear Velcro clothing. They seem to be very nice young men.)
Due to our lack of time and the show times, we could not see Menopause. Criss Angel was at 7pm and the Thunder boys at 9pm. After securing our tickets, we began covering some serious ground. There was shopping to be done and sights to be seen.
For the record, I simply canNOT comprehend the statement, “I don’t like Vegas.”

What is not to like? Where else can you go and see a volcano erupt on the side of the road 2 times an hour, go to the top of the Paris Effel Tower, see the Statue of Liberty, cross the street with Minnie Mouse, have your picture made with almost any celebrity’s life size wax figure, ride roller coasters, see/buy any and every color of M& M’s, visit Greece, see lions and tigers and virtually every other animal, watch a pirate ship blow up and sink at least 2xs every night, be mesmerized by the dancing waters in front of the Bellagio, stay in gorgeous hotels practically for free and simply try to take in the beauty of such magnificent sights. The architectural talent displayed in that city is beyond words. And if all of that is not enough, you can gamble any and everywhere you go. Sadly, the clanging of the winning coins hitting the tray is a thing of the past. Everything is now coin-less and is all paper, I think do to germs and wear & tear on the machines. I’m no gambler, but if I am going to play the slots, I prefer hearing and seeing my winnings … even if we are only talking about $2 in pennies.
Anyway, we ate and enjoyed the city that never sleeps. I was proposed to 3 times while I was there. The whole works … on one knee and everything. I did buy an XTREME ENERGY bracelet from one man who asked me to marry him and he even promised to give me any and everything I ever wanted. I declined, but the bracelet is supposed to give me more balance and he sold it to me for half price. So far, I have stayed upright, but I wasn’t really struggling with that before I bought it …
My main focus was to make it into M & M World because one of my girls requested a bag of multicolored M & M’s. “Multicolored” M & M’s in an M & M store means grey, light purple, black, pink … all colors. I have already taken her to the store in Vegas and New York, so now she’s hooked.
Once that was done, my sister and I continued enjoying the beautiful weather and walking the stunning streets of Las Vegas. Possibly some may be distracted by the people on the side walks wearing the “GIRLS TO YOU” shirts and making clicking noises while handing business cards to the men, but we just keep walking and talking as though they are not there.
Some say LV is a dangerous place. I disagree, at least no more than anywhere else. I would walk the streets of Vegas alone at night before I would go to my local shopping mall on a weekend night … alone OR with people. For so much “sin opportunity,” there is a cheerful harmony between people. They are friendly and seemingly happy … (and not just the drunk people.) It is a melting pot of all ages and cultures, causing it to be a challenge to not fit in.
Before we knew it, 7:00 was approaching and we needed to get ready for our evening. Becca and I ran to board the tram in an attempt to make it from the Monte Carlo hotel to Luxor in 5 minutes. We actually made it before Criss Angel started. That show was okay and thankfully not placed in a position to follow after the Thunder. No one wants to go after the Aussie men, no one. It just wouldn’t be fair.
As a sales ploy, the guest ladies for TfromDU get a wrist band at the show for an after party and a time to visit with the dancers. 
              That is not going to happen. 
               Why would they throw themselves to the wolves like that? Seriously, some of the women apparently have never seen such as these men and had difficulty with self control. I am certain there is only so much a gorgeous man in his prime can take of being mauled by women of all ages and sizes. All the same, there were free drinks until midnight for us, so we went, but I saw no sign of the thunder lures.

The club was loud and smoky. There was a bar to the right at the entrance and lounging tables/benches throughout, and the dance floor in the back left corner. My sister and I received our free, fruity, watered down cocktail in a plastic cup and stood near a bench just watching the club activity. Within less than a minute, a relatively handsome guy came up and asked one of us to dance. I honestly can’t remember which one he originally approached, but he kept going between us as we both said, “No thanks.”
Finally, a song came on that we recognized and my sister who loves to dance said, “Okay, I’ll go.”
I took her drink so no one would put drugs in it and sat down near where we were standing. Out of no where comes a young guy who plops down beside me asking WHY I am sitting alone. He had a slight spray coming with each word and began telling me about his military background while displaying a tattooed symbol on his hand between his thumb and pointy finger … assuring me what I would be missing if I didn’t hang out with him. I felt bad because I know he was trying to Mac on all the ladies and I didn’t have the heart to tell him his zipper was undone. Luckily, I think he had enough alcohol in him that his humility was not peaking.
Thankfully, one of the ladies from the Thunder show walked past and recognized me, asking me if I saw her friend. I gave her the “Help me” eyes and she spoke louder, “Oh, I have been looking for you. We have your seat right over here. Come on before somebody gets it!”
She pulled that off so well.
Coincidentally, everyone at the show knew of her b/c she was brought on stage from the audience with 2 other women for a contest. The 3 of them were to do their best performance in an acting task, and she won by a long shot. Quite the little actress …
I hid myself in a corner table listening to my new friend tell me about how she discovered her husband’s infidelity (thanks to Facebook,) confronted him, he denied, and now she will soon be divorced, but he doesn’t know that yet. She reenacted their pivotal discussion … reaching over and pulling out an imaginary picture she had printed, and then pretends to be holding it. She said she asked him, “Do you know this girl?’
“No,” he says.
“She’s pretty, isn’t she?”
“Yes, I guess.”
“You sure you don’t know her?”
She continued playing her part and his as she sipped her drink and took an occasional puff from her Marlboro Red, which she politely offered to me if I wanted one. I gave her my undivided attention as she went on with the rest of the story, explaining how she gave him every chance to fess up, and then reached across the table, (her simulated bedside table,) and pulled out her next plan of attack. She had already told me about her gun permit and how she had put away every gun in the house, but said she remained very calm.
Her approach, in the midst of this craziness, was somehow impressive. She went on to hold the next pretend paper in her hand, displaying the raunchy chat between her husband and this young woman. She then said, “I asked him, ‘Now do you think you may remember her?”

There we were, in a bar in Vegas, and I thought I was going to cry. She was very collected as she pointed out the beauty of this 20 year old woman and how at the age of 40-whatever she was, she simply could not and would not try to compete with that. She told her husband, “I understand why you would be attracted to her.” However, her heartache from the betrayal was deep. It was clear.
Soon after that discussion, Beyonce began singing All the Single Ladies, and I said, “Come on, that’s us!”
I made it to the dance floor and the original handsome man was there smiling. My sister had already told me he was a very nice guy, married with 2 kids. She said he was just tired of sitting and wanted to dance. As everyone danced, he seemed to fit her description well. He said, “See, I’m married with 2 children at home. I am just here to dance.”
After 2 or 3 songs, I was feeling my age and went to sit down. He said to let him know if I wanted to dance again.
By this time, we had about 4 club friends, including 2 guys in town for the Super Bowl from Australia. I spotted my harmless dancing friend dancing with another girl, and just to see what he would do, I approached them as though I was ready to dance again. The girl was quick to walk away with no friction and he complied with me. I laughed and hurried them back together, saying, “No, no! I was just kidding!”
My sister laughingly assured me I was silly and we continued social chatting with our Vegas buddies, both feeling like we knew this guy’s personality well and we understood him. But then …
Then, I looked out to the dance floor and noticed the happily married man, father of 2 passionately kissing his dancing partner. I was traumatized. After all of that innocent declaration? Where did the family man go? I marched out to the dance floor, lifted my left hand and pointed to my ring finger as his mental reminder of what was happening. It worked for approximately 2 seconds.
I couldn’t help but briefly wonder about his wife at home with their kids. Will she ever know about this? Maybe she doesn’t really care? She could be cute and fun, or let herself go. Did they have a connected relationship that included trust, smiles, intimacy, and a passion mixed with that comfort of not having to worry about being impressive at all times? The time in the relationship when the woman doesn’t feel self conscious with no make up (or yesterday’s makeup still on) and neither the man nor woman cares if he’s all sweaty from mowing the yard. Or does she expect this from him?
My codependent self wanted to go pull him off the dance floor on behalf of his wife at home, but I had already done enough by the ring pointing, I suppose too much. It’s really not my business and I cannot save him from himself. After a little bit of time, I had some assurance from a past experience of my own and knew if his wife was intuitive and paying attention, she would most likely figure this out all by herself. I know, because I did, and no one had to tell me anything …
The incident is actually a part of my book. Here’s a little clip from my novel:

Then, we went outside for our ritualistic quality time and a little cocktail or wine. (Though, the quality was seemingly deteriorating to poor.)
That night, under the **** {save the location for publication} sky, in the exact same location some of our most precious moments had occurred, was when I experienced something I had never experienced before …

We had been together all day and he had not kissed me yet … a real kiss … and it was already after eleven p.m. That was odd within itself because we had been through the longest time we had ever been apart from one another. It had been about three weeks.
Late that night, he kissed me and an instant alert shot through me like electricity. It was not the way we kissed, not at all. The first time he ever kissed me it was familiar, but this time, his kiss was foreign. It felt different and even tasted different. I immediately, intuitively knew without a doubt, he had been kissing someone else.

One may think I would have been upset, but for some reason I was not. I simply knew it was a truth, instinctively knew what he had been doing, but never addressed it. It took him about thirty minutes before he returned back to our way. All the same, it did not matter to me in the way it should, especially considering the fact that I was committed to marry this man.

Granted, if a couple does not regularly kiss and such, I suppose one would not notice. However, if these things are habit and routine, it is an easy detection with no forewarning … as easy to spot as a hickie on the neck or lipstick on the collar. As my story goes on, I did address the issue of someone else to validate what I knew. My confirmation came in the form of beads of sweat across his forehead …
Soooo, I have experienced, yet another adventurous trip to Las Vegas. Sometimes what happens there stays there … and sometimes it doesn't.
If I failed to mention the Thunder From Down Under show, my sister and I do recommend it.

Vegas Girl,

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