Sloth: When no action is taken; or the animal featured above.
Vegas: We spent Friday afternoon strolling around the casinos. In Paris, the floors turned into cobble stone streets lined with quaint lamps illuminating European specialty shops. I looked up and discovered vaulted ceilings with an idyllic sky painted in broad blue and white strokes. When we turned the corner, the old-world charm was disrupted by slot machines, smoke and noise. I smiled, remembering a coworker who coined Vegas a Disney World on crack.
We ate outside a French café for lunch. The waitress approached as the famous Bellagio water show started behind her.
“Ladies, welcome to Paris, may I interest you in some wine?”
I listened trying to decide if she was an import from France or a transplant from Hollywood. Regardless, the accent was welcomed ambiance. She came back with a bottle of white wine and a champagne bucket.
“Ladies, now this is vacation!” I said, sweeping my hand from the bucket to the water scene in front of us.
As we poured wine I realized this was the first time Monte, Rizza and I were together since college.
“CeCe, I have to tell you, you were this trip’s wild card.”
“Is that so?”
“In college, Monte always insisted on inviting along extra people and it was a 50/50 chance if these new additions would wreck the night.”
“Ah, C’mon, that’s not true.” Monte said feigning offense.
I motioned to Rizza who confirmed it was indeed true.
“Do you remember the sushi girl?”
Rizza chimned in,
”Ooooh yeah, Monte’s friend who told us she was taking us to a place that was priced like a cheap pizza joint with amazing sushi.”
I looked over at Cece,
“She took us to Morimoto’s.”
“Okay that was pretty bad. Remember, you ended up eating the whole tray of sashimi because nobody else wanted raw fish.”
My stomach churned. Rizza added,
“After dinner we got pizza because we were starving.”
We finished off the bottle of wine and some mid-afternoon martinis. We told Cece about traveling from frat party to frat party via a shopping cart, about passing out on cab drivers’ shoulders, random encounters with midgets and cops and exes. And, we made the interesting discovery that we had too many stories about guys pissing in weird places, ie. closets, dresser drawers, ect.
Drunk on laughter and nostalgia we continued on walking in twos. I watched a man do a double take of Monte and CeCe. He approached them talking fast,
“Ladies, Ladies are you enjoying Vegas? How would you like to be on my VIP list tonight for Lady Gaga’s after party?”
Monte and Cece pulled back skeptical.
“I’m a promoter, I get good looking ladies like you to come to the club and they pay me. Open bar and free drinks until midnight. All I need is one of your ladies phone numbers.”
By the time we got to the Bellagio we had our names on VIP lists throughout the strip. As we walked around the Chinese New Year display a young, cute promoter approached. I liked his relaxed, non-pushy style. He seemed to be of a higher echelon.
“My name is Adam.”
“That’s funny I just got a funny text from my friend Adam.” I pulled out my phone and showed him:
“Saying ‘beer can’ with a British accent sounds
like ‘bacon’ in a Jamaican accent.”
I gave my number promising we’d be back. We got back to our hotels with starstudded options. We toasted,
“To having ta-tas in Vegas”
A Warrior Princess