No ID? No Problem!
It was time to use the mammary twins!
right boob: Oh hell no. Is she talking to us??
left boob: Yeah, I guess all the bright lights of Vegas got her thinking that its 1997 again.
Me: Come on girls! We still got it going on! We can convince this guy to let us in!
right boob: We're retired
left boob: Yep. That ring on your finger says so.
Me: I'm not asking for a full performance. Just look perky k?
right boob: We've been sitting in damp quarters for six hours. Perk this bitch.
left boob: (laughing)
Me: (to left boob) don't encourage her! Come on girls! You gals are REAL boobies..which is quite a novelty nowadays, especially in Las Vegas! This guy will let us IN and give us free drink just for that fact!
left boob: look around really quick, notice how its NOT Mexico? If you show him you have real boobs in Las Vegas you'll be kicked out of town.
My bitchy boobs had a point.
But as it turns out Belinda's best friend, who happens to live near downtown Las Vegas, also forgot her I.D. So instead of cattle prodding my hooters to stand at a attention, the guy promised to let us back in front of the VIP line after we come back with our I.D.s.
(This goes to show how long it has been since I've been out dancing. Before, a routine ID check ws mandatory before going out, now the routine check before going out is to make sure you have snacks and crayons. )
We came back with our IDs, got into the VIP line again and made it inside the Ghost Bar and later, got a free pass to The Moon. I had a great time dancing the night away until the wee hours of the morning (3:45 am! who knew I had it in me??). The second night was pretty much the same (except I had my ID duct taped to my hand), we even rolled like ballahs in a MGM Grand limo for free because I'm with the mafia. (and by that I mean, Belinda's friend worked at the MGM Grand and we got hook ups. But me being in the mafia makes for a more exciting read no?)
After two nights of dancing and people watching, I was so happy that I had outgrown the "club hopping" scene.
Several notable sights I saw at the clubs in Las Vegas:
A 22 YEAR OLD I spoke briefly with at the bar, laughing about how her botox treatment made her boyfriend think she was mad at him. Did I mention that she also had obvious lip injections of some sort? I was kind of sad after that conversation. Insecurity is bitch of a friend to have.
But of course after a Long Island Ice Tea, I got over it.
Fake boobies of varying sizes, shapes, textures and colors..I think I saw one girl's nipples sitting on her chin.
Douche flags everywhere. (guys with popped collars)
A girl joyfully screamed in my ear that she was 21 years old! I screamed "Right on!" and then I saw her celebrate the occasion in the bathroom line by letting a drunk guy give her a gynecological exam.
Lets hope he used those free sanitizing wipes in the bathroom. (lemon scented!)
The classic "I'll dance behind you and pretend that I'm actually dancing WITH you" move that guys do when they haven't drank enough alchohol to get the balls and actually ask you
Really OLD men (like "can you be a dear and get my teeth out of that cup?" old) with really YOUNG women...the kind that you can get out of the Las Vegas phonebook. I guess you can call them an "escort" or an "oral engineer" perhaps even a "Happy Ending Technician?" Well..no..those gals are under the category of "Asian Massage."
Anyways. yeah. I saw a lot of those.
Ladylike dunlaps (belly "dunlapping" over your jeans/skirt/shorts/etc.) and backfat (self explanatory).
Which I wouldn't HAVE to see if you could mosey your way down to the LARGE section of the clothing rack instead of grabbing a small halter tee (barf) along with your cheeseburger and fries.
No, seriously. I don't need to see that your belly button is the size of a cereal bowl and that you have belly that shakes like a bowlful of jelly Santa. Thanks.
(Do these girls NOT have mirrors??? Or FRIENDS?? )
A crack addict that looked like gollum stepped in front of my car and motioned for me to roll down the window. (all fast and cracky like). Okay, so that didn't happen at the club but holy crap did she/he/thing whatever that was scare the diahrrea out of me! I threw some mints out the window (to distract it) and hightailed it out of there.
I know, I know, ...the proper thing to throw at crack addicts is rocks, but I didn't have any on hand...plus I'm sure her/his/its dealer will appreciate her/his/its minty fresh breath during their next transaction.
I'm sure there was a lot more that I'm leaving out, but did you know that Long Island Ice teas isn't actually TEA???
Yeah, that shit will put a midget DOWN for the count and make her forget things.
Just one glass to be exact. (so sad)
Anywhoo, I was back home with the family on Mother's Day to which I was greeted with a "Happy Mama Day, Mama!" by the munchkin and presented with a present that she had chosen all by herself, with no help from daddy. A beach towel and a round orange scented candle.
Why the beach towel I wondered?
"So we can go more to the beach!" was the answer that came forth from my munchkin.
Then I was REALLY glad I had outgrown the club scene.
Hope everyone had a great Mother's Day!!!!!