So today I woke up around noon, extra groggy and not all with it. That however was expected, given that I just returned home from Las Vegas last night. Did you know Los Angeles to Vegas is only a 4 hour drive? I had no idea when I moved out here that the best place on earth was so close by. That in and of itself justified my move! I was already packed and in the passenger seat before my roommate could finish asking if I wanted to go. Vegas, baby, yeah! We pumped up the music and after 15 minutes in the car, had heard all of the current 8 songs on the radio at least twice. Who knew Rihanna was such a ho – “boy, can you get it up? boy, is it big enough?” No wonder Chris Brown…too soon? Anyway, thank god for ipods. We arrived at around 11:30PM yet spent an hour and a half waiting to check-in at Planet Hollywood. Only in Vegas is the check-in line around the corner at 12:30AM! I tried to argue that since it was now past midnight and no longer Friday, we shouldn’t have to pay for that day. The attendant brushed off my comment – why does no one take me seriously! I was pretty annoyed but the cigarette-alcohol waft in the air and the sounds of the slot machines made me look past that, excited to get out and explore. When I got to my room though, I thought I’d never want to leave. I almost peed in my pants, I was laughing so hard when our key opened the double doors that lead to an enormous suite! This was so not the room we paid for, but there wasn’t a chance in hell I was alerting them to their mistake. It was huge. All we needed was a tiger and a baby and this could have been the room from The Hangover (which by the way, people could not stop referencing the whole weekend). Seriously, call us Zach and Cody, because we were living the suite life – we even had an air hockey table! From then on out, it was party time – Vegas-style. It’s like all social norms no longer exist. Vodka for breakfast, rum for lunch and tequila for dinner a Vegas diet does make. That is except, for the tourist from middle America who think they have struck gold at the all-you-can-eat buffets. I watch these elephants in awe, as their creativity astounds me. They pile their plates high with a variety of food I would never have even imagined. Cheesecake and a plate of pasta and nachos…for breakfast? Impressive incorporation of your food groups. What really gets me though, is later that evening when these same folks squeeze into a strip of latex, that they try to pass off as dresses. I’m talking zero shame – they make Jwoww and Snookie look conservative. I saw more crack than one should ever see in a lifetime. But, if I wanted to see even more, on every street corner there are illegal immigrants handing out cards advertising “girls, girls, girls.” Some were wearing t-shirts that listed a number for you to call to “win a free girl.” What a prize – let me start dialing now to enter! What am I going to do with a naked girl, besides get a complex about my own body? After a while I got tired of them pushing the cards into my face, and just took one from every Mexican who passed me by. Then, before the next batch could shove the card in my face, I shoved the cards right back at them. See how they like being offered girls. But enough about girls, lets talk about the boys. The bachelor parties are a dime a dozen, each group drunker than the next. As I was explaining to my friend that people in Vegas just say whatever they are thinking out loud, a boy walking by screamed out to me, “I love you.” My point exactly. I find it easier to give out my number than make up a fake one and then caught in a lie. Also, I’m not great at thinking on my feet. The best fake name I can come up with on short notice is Diane. By the end of the trip I’d say a good half of the strip had my number programmed into their phones. A text such as “hey sexy” elicits an “ugh” from me while the less insulting “hey, what are you doing tonight?” makes me wonder who wants to know. And “the boy from last night” is not nearly specific enough. On top of the randoms, there are the promoters who text you, each trying to bring you into their clubs. No lines and free drinks – say no more. I’m in. And asides from the partying, there is the gambling! I’m not one for it, but it looks like a good time. I was up $1 then down $3.25 and called it quits when I had a two tickets to cash in from the slots, one for $2.23 and the other for 20 cents. Even though I didn’t come home a big winner, I did make it home in one piece, which is an accomplishment on its own. “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas”, and I hope it’s all still there when I return!

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