I admit it, there was once a seedy part of me that loved to wallow in the twisted morality of Las Vegas. The deviant behavior, the misplaced ethics, the dipping of one's tootsies in the dark waters of vulgarity, it all made for some really good people watching. A closet voyeur's paradise. So you can imagine my surprise when this last trip somewhat repulsed me. O.k, part of it had to be the hotel we were staying in. Mark had been in Las Vegas on business for the last couple of weeks (yes, weeks) and was staying in one of those depressing little "Executive Suite" hotels. Definitely not one of the sparkly casino resorts. And let me tell you, get a street or two away from The Strip and LV turns into something quite dismal. Bizarro world where the harsh daylight takes the pretty glitter away and replaces it with dankness. When did it become so dirty? I felt like bathing in Purel every night. Have you ever taken a good look at the carpeting in the casinos? Nasty, really, really nasty.
Remember that 20/20 episode where they black lighted the rooms -and you saw them - great glowing globs of semen, urine and feces - everywhere. The fact that I remember this episode so vividly clearly shows the episode fucked with my mind. I freaked when the blankets even lightly touched my face and I woke up each morning with a kink in my neck because I wanted the least amount of skin possible touching the pillow.
And gambling, good God I suck so bad at gambling. First, I have to keep track of every penny I lose, so even if I win, I'm still bitter because I lost money. I have never, ever won anything remotely close to "big" in Vegas. I drive my husband bonkers because he'll be up and I'll be behind him screaming "cash out, cash out". Kinda a buzz kill for those who actually enjoy gambling. My theory is I might as well walk straight to the middle of the casino, pull out my money, torch it with my lighter, and I would pretty much have the same result as if I were plunking money in a slot machine.
It was all worth it though to see my sweetie. I've missed him immeasurably.
And I did get to meet a new friend. A woman who knew of my medical past and of the adoption but didn't ask any weird or insensitive questions. A woman with the same warped and macabre sense of humor as mine. I could hang with her, comfortably. We both got "attitude" from the Versace saleswoman for fingering a $16,000 fake purple fur coat, and we both thought the same thing "I hope I left a booger on it." A woman after my own heart! Of course she lives like 1,800 miles away from me. Figures.
I got to see a 60 year old woman walking down the street in a black bikini with transparent harem pants and stiletto's - priceless!
I saw an extreme amount of pudginess stuffed into bright colored lycra.
I ate some incredible, awesome food.
And, whenever I saw an inappropriately dressed woman - and there were lots and lots of them -I got to ponder "is that a hooker?"
Good times.
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