I just got back from my semi-annual chicks weekend - in Vegas. What happens there stays there (read: what I play there usually stays there - except this time!) Met my mom who flew in from Florida and I flew there with my friend Jami. Hubby says next time he wants me to go to a spa for a Zen relaxation experience. Zen my ass - I'd rather go to Vegas. I get a charge from it. For some, and I being one, casinos are fun. I like to talk to other grown ups. I love to gamble. I like the bright shiny objects and the sounds and the buzz of a casino. I like to shop in the designer stores and pretend I am actually going to buy something. If I win, I just might.
For me - even though I get practically no sleep, I relax and have fun. I get the genetic predisposition for the sport from my mom and dad - who have been doing Vegas since Vegas was hip and people dressed in the evening, and went to shows, and schmoozed. They'd seen all the big names in their day. Sinatra, Sammy Davis and the rest of the Rat Pack. We used to joke that my parents (mostly my mom) went to Vegas for 3 nights and and one day. Saw daylight upon arrival and departure only.
Once- I won big - $8000 big. I felt like a whale (which is Vegas speak for high roller). I had the cage (which is Vegas speak for the cashier) issue me a check, so I'd be sure to go home with it. That was exciting! I asked for my hookers and cocaine, which I thought were the things afforded to whales in Vegas. Instead, I got a massage and a lobster dinner. Maybe if I'd not gotten the check, they would have given me the former in hopes that I would give back the 8K. I was a double winner that trip - I went home with the cash and drawn butter stains on my blouse.
This time, I did pretty good. I had some big wins on penny slots (believe it or not) and played my 3 card poker for hours. Went shopping and got a great pair of shoes and a handbag (Donald J Pliner for those who want to know), ate well, got a tan at the pool, saw Dennis Miller (who was hysterical, by the way) and actually went home with money in my pocket. I'd have to say one of the highlights was that my girlfriend Jami bought a Gucci purse. A real live, really expensive one at that. I was so happy for her. That's zen by osmosis, baby.
The last night there - as we had to get up at 6:00 a.m. to catch our flight, and of course the wake up call automated system was down...I lie awake, too afraid to fall asleep in fear that the alarm would not go off, I had a few thoughts:
-how Vegas is good for the ego. Second only to say, Pigeon Forge, Tennessee (where there are more toes than teeth) in that a 44 year old slightly overweight (I'm not fat, I'm just fluffy) soccer mom can be one of the hottest babes in the joint. I look at some of the people and think to myself - do they actually think they look good in that wife beater tank and stretchy pants? And that's the guys!
-what would I have done if that toothless, yarn hat wearing whacky women sitting next to me muttering that she was stranded and had to wait for the bus at 6:00am (hoping for a handout, I am sure) would have swiped my purse, or jewelry, or god forbid - my $150.00 penny slot winning ticket? Fight or flight? I am basically a wus, so I think I would have just cowered in disbelief...glad I didn't have to find out.
-and speaking of that, how come there is not enough visible security at casino hotels? Whackos come out at night...hovering around and praying on unsuspecting wusses like me. I wanna see more men and women in blue in the wee hours.
-how if we actually didn't make the plane due to the wake up call issue, would the really nice guy who was a big wig corporate pilot have , as he said he would, flown us back to Burbank? Sure,
I'd have bought him lunch , like that would've covered the fuel charges.
-how my girls ask me why I am going away. They don't like when I go away. Hubby can go for two or three days, and even though they don't like it, it is different than mommy going away. I tell them I will be a better mommy if I can go away once in a while and be a woman now and then.
-how I gotta start planning now for the next trip...with all due respect to hubby and his desire to send me to a spa, that would probably cost more money than Vegas (as I get free rooms) if I play my cards right (pun intended) - I'll get the spa treatments anyway.
-how if my dream of hitting the Royal Flush had actually come true - would I have stayed there a bit longer and finally gotten my hookers and cocaine?
Aah, the random delusions of the sleep deprived. That's zen, baby!