Well, for a trip that only lasted about 72 hours, it’s taken me three weeks to tell the story.
One of the most exciting things about Las Vegas is there is always something going on there that’s big.
The week we decided to visit had two monster events: the Latin Grammy Awards and the Pacquaio/Marquez boxing match.
The last day there we decided to go to a Cantina for lunch. Probably not the best idea considering that the town was filling up with Latino fans and any place serving any kind of food even remotely connected to South of the Border was packed. However, the place we chose turned out to be the site of…get ready for this…a Wednesday afternoon wedding reception.
We couldn’t quite figure out what was going on at the long table in the back of the restaurant with about 20 people at it. At first we thought it was someone’s birthday but there was such a variation in age that didn’t seem right. Then we noticed that a couple of the men were wearing black satin shirts and black satin vests except for the one guy who had on a white satin vest.
They left shortly before we did, after doing several tequila shots and having a grand old rowdy time of it all and bidding us good-bye as they walked out.
We asked our waiter what the celebration was all about and that’s when we found out it was a wedding reception. Well, as the saying goes, “inquiring minds want to know”…so of course I asked which one was the bride? He looked a little sheepish and said she’d gone up to her room to change out of her sweat suit.
At first I thought I hadn’t heard right. So I asked him to repeat it, using one of my favorite excuses, that I am a little hard of hearing (which I’m not.) He said exactly the same thing…she’d gone up to change out of her sweat suit.
I can’t even comment on that. Only in Vegas…but this was something that wasn’t staying in Vegas since I just told you about it.
Apparently, THEhotel is a favorite spot for celebs to stay when they are in town and the Grammy people were no exception. We discovered this when we attempted to get back up to our rooms and were stopped by two security guards who required us to show our room keys and ID. While I was fishing around in my bag (the one the homeless guy lives in with all his stuff) I suddenly realized there were lots of cameras flashing and I turned to see this stunningly beautiful girl posing with some of whom I presume were her fans. As I handed the guard my key, etc. I asked him who that was. “I have absolutely no idea,” he said, shrugging his shoulders.
I have to say I felt better when he said that. I was sort of thinking that my age was catching up on me and the only two stars I knew as afar as Latin Grammies went were Jennifer Lopez and Marc Anthony…and we know how that ended.
We did see the same young lady on TV later that day but it was a crowd shot and I still have no idea who she was.
Well, the planned activity for that last afternoon was to go out to “The Gun Store” where you can fire off any number of different weapons for a hefty fee. We’d scouted out the place the day before and decided on the “Ladies’ Package” which offered 20 shots on a Glock 19, 10 shots on a Beretta AR15 or an AK47 (available in either pink or black!), two targets and a t-shirt for a “mere” $50.00.
However, what we didn’t know was that virtually everyone, from the highest level of executive to the lowest level of life also wanted to shoot guns when we did. We arrive at the place only to find out that it was a two-hour wait to shoot so much as a beebee gun. And this was a Wednesday. Since this would cut into our cocktail hour, we opted just to park and tour the place.
Well, I think we made the right choice, since once inside the line to get to the range wound around and in and out and in and out again…and everyone there actually smoked. Why that surprised me, I don’t know. No guns this trip. Save it for the next insanity.
However, we were not insane enough to pay for the mini-bar.
Thank heavens for the GPS and Google.
We realized that for what we thought would just be a short jaunt out of town we could go to a “package store” and buy a small bottle of vodka (a litre?) for what one two ounce deal would cost where we were staying. There were two of us, we had a car and could take home the left-over vodka (with the accompanying lamb) so why not take a little ride off the strip?
90 minutes later we found the liquor store.
After many “Make a legal U-turns” and “Your destination is ahead on the right” there it was. It seemed like an okay place and since there were two of us and it was well lit, in a strip mall, we weren’t really concerned about safety.
I didn’t particularly like the guy in the hoodie standing by the door, but what the heck? We were two desperate women who’d given up a chance to shoot an AK-47 and instead went in search of a little liquid sustenance for the cost of less than an arm and a leg.
The “hoodie” guy muttered something as we went in. Safety in numbers, right? I grew up riding subways and buses in New York City. It takes a lot to scare me. We made our purchase and when we walked out, Hoodie muttered something else and began to follow us.
My traveling companion grew up in the wilds of some New England town. Street-smart me didn’t like this.
We got in the car and I practically screamed at her “Back the car up!”
She was taking her sweet time putting on, deargodinheaven, her seat belt. In a parking lot. She looked at me and said, “What?”
”Back the car up!”
Again, with the “What?”
I won’t repeat what I said to her then because my 91 year old parents sometimes read my blogs.
“Expletive deleted” as Richard Nixon used to say.
Well, the poor man just walked right by us and continued on his way, still muttering. My pal thought I’d totally lost it.
Truth be told? I was so sure we would be on the front page of the Las Vegas Weekly for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, I didn’t apologize.
When we got back to THEhotel…I drank more than my half of the vodka.
Then we came home.