My lips are dry, my wallet is empty and it looks like someone punched me in both eyes. Yup, I'm back from Vegas. Jason and I spent the past four days with a group of 12 rowdy people gambling, drinking, eating and generally acting like complete idiots in Vegas, much like what the rest of the general population does when dropped in the middle of the desert surrounded by 197,144 slot machines, endless roulette wheels, card tables and short Mexican guys flicking and handing out "trading cards" of naked girls. (Boy, some pre-teen boy could trade A LOT of Pokemon cards for just one of those babies!!!! HA, HA, HA!)
So as I was saying, we did what everyone does: gamble, drink, cuss, repeat. I did a little bit of shopping (I should have done a lot of shopping and NO gambling that way I would have come home much happier, but that is not how this story goes).
In addition, we got to see Jerry Seinfeld on stage at Caesar's Saturday night and watch the SuperBowl on Sunday from 2,000 miles away instead of 50; I went to an oxygen bar for the first time and had some jell-0 shots with the girls, had lots frozen daquiris (and subsequent brain freeze), drank my weight in Vodka/cranberry, and loaded up on Pepsi. (What the hell, I was on vacation.)
What is it about Vegas that makes one lose complete grasp of the value of the dollar? In Las Vegas a $20 bill seems like a $1 bill and a $100 bill seems like a $20. It is so easy to lose complete understanding of what you are spending because you are constantly thinking that you are going to win it all back!!!!! (Note to self: YEAH, RIGHT!)
Jason was a tiny bit sick at the start of the trip, but he came back with a vengance, gulping down 10+ shots at Margaritville late Sunday night and then running 20 miles on Monday morning. I swear, he is the only person I know that can do that. He also bought me a new shirt with 4 f-bombs on it! I just love it, but I have the feeling I really can't wear it a lot in Sarasota... certainly not as much as I could in Vegas. And I don't think I want to have to have Jake try to spell and pronounce that word. Not that he hasn't heard it before! HA!
There were a lot of hilarious moments on the trip -- but some of my favorites were see the "walks of shame" early in the morning. You know what I'm talking about: the girls coming out of the dance clubs at 6 a.m. with puke-stained dresses, one-shoe missing and their butts hanging out the back of the shortest-dress-you-have-ever-seen. Nice.
Bye-bye Vegas. Bye-bye money.
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