I was in Vegas and the names of people are different but the stories are pretty much real.
As I landed I got a call from the side of the pool at the Hard Rock Hotel where we’d be staying. I heard ‘blah blah.. thong,… fake… bikini’. Should be fun working this weekend, inside, not at the pool and with no Greta (which is pretty much very sad for me).
I got to the hotel and had a killer view of the roof and of the construction that would be ongoing through the weekend – starting promptly each morning around 6am.
The pool was about as accurate as it was advertised – fake and bikini could be used to describe 99% of what was there – except for the price of beer. I indulged in a $13 beer which was a pint of beer that you can buy a 12-pack of for $13 anywhere else.
We had to run over to the convention center for a bit and then back to the hotel to change into Vegas clothing – which to my dismay was not a triathlon t-shirt and shorts. Blah blah blah….
Arrive at a cocktail party – free everything. Everyone else noticed too. I knew there would be good blog content soon.
I knew it would be pretty good when I am standing in the middle of a conversation where ‘Grace’ is face to face with some guy quizzing her on what foreign languages she knows. Hebrew… no…. French… no. Mandarin Chinese…. yes. They start speaking in Chinese which sounded good to me except at a cocktail party you can barley hear what people are saying in English. She apparently learned this while living in Beijing. He walks away later – clearly not getting anywhere with Grace, he’s 5’9” and she’s 6’1”. She turns to me and says “I don’t know Chinese”. She was just saying things that sound like they could be Chinese. Throw some silverware on the floor to hear about what that sounds like.
Apparently that party quenched some thirst because that’s when the weaving began. One part of our group was weaving pretty badly as we entered another party across town. I sort of kept her from falling off the path into the shrubbery. Would have been funnier to let her go into the jungle but that wouldn’t have been friendly. The party was sort of lame but the beer and cocktails were free and I saw a cake. I was mostly anxious to get home – but there was more good blog content to come.
About 8 of us caught a limo we had for the night back to the Hard Rock. On the way back to the car I got the ‘I’m pretty drunk’ explainer from “Roger” which was followed by a pretty rough ‘all I had today was a piece of yogurt’. Yup, a piece. Sweet. As we returned to the hotel and I see “Roger” sort of miss our right turn as he heads to the casino floor with a 1.5 liter bottle of vodka in his hand. Swaying to the breeze.
Between the right turn and Roger’s failure to signal, we lost ‘Nolan’ who meandered through the casino, past security and out to the pool. Nolan then found himself a while later covered in the evening’s cocktails and dinner but not before he had already walked clear across the casino floor where he walks out of the Hard Rock Hotel, raises his right arm as if he were attending a Judas Priest concert and shouts to the security guys ‘I NEED A CAB TO THE HARD ROCK’. They were nice and told him he was at the Hard Rock.
There’s more but I’m tired.