"IT HAS EVERYTHING YOU WOULD EVER WANT TO DO!"
vegas. as someone once said, the x-rated disneyland for adults. amidst the glitter and glitz of walt/hollywood meets mob money, tourists gather to gawk and get rowdy on the faux fabulous strip. holiday revelers ignore the rough or wrong realities that seeing behind-the-scenes would reveal. why?
because vegas is freakin' fun! a decadent 24 hour fun house. think pinocchio and all the naughty boys turning into jack asses. all-you-can-eat seafood and steak. shows that appreciate the beauty and art of nudity.
but everyone knows vegas.
"I MADE $6!"
i don't gamble. i want to say it's the starving artist in me, but really it's the broke cheapskate. donations to the nickel slot machine seem silly when i regularly shake empty my penny piggy bank for 99 cent jack in the box extra value items ($1.08 with tax).
after a night rocking out hard at baby's in hard rock (i love baby's), people headed back to the hotels to recover from either driving all day to get to this desert oasis or from praying to the porcelain gods at the club. (for the record: i did not throw up. no one warned me that jager is a nasty evil shot, and that my first ever jager experience would spin my head quite like that, but i still did not yak. that's not a criticism, dear kimi-friend. hehe)
i still wanted to play. pwease. matt (my friend kica's friend's ex-boyfriend's roommate who let us crash at his treasure island hotel room which his parent's got comp'ed for being loyal gamblers) agreed to supervise joy's continued late night/early morning adventures. we got dropped off at the palms to check out the afterhours.
but then we have to hike. the afterhours was not at the palms. seven is on the strip. 2 miles away maybe? certainly a distance to hoof it in bebe heels, club clothes, and a lacy shawl. the chilly 4am cold made both matt and i ready to give up and go to the hotel. i did, however, request that we please stop in at the barbary coast for a minute to defrost.
"well, since we're here," matt suggests, "if you can get us in, i'm down." (mind you, we have zero dollars between us.)
i march downstairs like i'm supposed to be there, like i have money for cover or a plan.
"um, hi, i'm on the guestlist. joy + 1."
she looks at me, no you're not. i didn't think she'd respond to any psuedo innocent little girl looks, and i don't have denise or kica lashes to bat-bat-bat, so i ask to leave my id while i go look for "my friends" inside.
i have no friends inside. i have no actual plan. but i do sincerely want to go inside and dance. some guy starts trying to talk to me as i walk by. i apologize that i could not talk, explaining that i need to figure out a way to get myself and my friend in.
"your girlfriend?" he asks, eyebrows raised.
no, my guy friend. i point to matt and turn away.
"wait --" he pulls out two twenties. "here, get yourself and your friend in."
the guest list girl seems surprised/confused when i toss her the $40 cover for two and grab my id and matt and run inside.
this guy (no kimi, he's not young and he's not cute, but he did hook it up) offers me a small wad of cash to buy myself a drink, but i politely decline, thanking him again for paying our door cover, saying he's been generous enough. after dancing for a couple hours, i try to push it 'til it closes, but give up by 7:45a. as i leave, he hands me the cash again. for a cab ride. so $5 fare + $3 tip = joy "won" $6, a black scarf, and paid nothing to play at drai's.
hehehe
