Gluttony: The excessive over-indulgence of something with little substance.
Vegas: Saturday night getting ready in hotel room; four girls with four wardrobes and four different skill sets drinking and collaborating on Vegas-grade outfits.
“This would look great on you Cece.” Rizza said holding up a cobalt blue dress that scrounged together in the front with funky brass buckles at the top. Cece raised her eyebrow with an impish grin,
“Do I dare?”
“You definitely dare, you’re going to be one Hot Tamale in that! It’s sort of like a Sgt. Pepper’s dress.” I said pulling underwear up over my stockings.
“What are you doing?” Rizza asked.
I looked down and back up, “What?”
“Why are you putting underwear over your stockings?”
“You don’t do this?”
I could feel the color rising in my cheeks as she shook her head no. This was certainly the distinct mark of my mother.
“I go underwear, stockings, underwear so that over the course of the day your stockings don’t sag.”
“Double bags.” Monte said pointing and laughing.
“I, for one, think it’s brilliant!”
“Thank you Cece.”
I wiggled down my dress and retreated to the bathroom.
Monte entered as I was drawing a thick brown line over my eye. I looked at her hair in awe.
“Is there really a sock in there?”
“Yep, cut like a tube, work of da Rizza.”
I circled all the way around searching for any sign of sock.
“Wow…now that is noteworthy!”
Cece entered with an IPod. Corrine Baily looped with Girl, put your records on. We sang bobbing along to the tune.
“Not that it’s a big deal, but for sanity’s sake, is it just me or is there a serious lack of good looking men out here?”
“I was definitely hoping for better eye candy,” Monte said, quickly adding, “Not that I’m looking”
Cece chimed in, “Well I am looking and it’s a sea of dead fish.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” I replied. “And what about their lame approach. Last night I drove my heel into a guy’s foot after he nonchalantly grabbed my ass. He said, ‘ouch’ as if I was out of line. I smiled and told him, ‘Sorry, I must have two left feet.’”
Rizza called, “Ladies, shots are ready!”
My cell phone buzzed in the corner.
“Oooh let’s see what Adam the promoter has for us.” I read his message, “We’re in VIP with T-Pain tonight.”
Rizza passed out the shots saying, “All I do is win.”
I woke up head fuzzy with droll on the pillow. I grabbed Cece’s camera off the bed stand, a flip-book of last night’s excessive drinking:
-Four of us at Bellagio with water/light show in background.
-Table of eight redbull vodkas, compliments of Adam the promoter
-Cece doing an impressive split under a large framed picture that read ‘escape’
-Me in a sassy hip pose holding up camera card next to large framed picture that read ‘influence’
-Rizza in hot pink leggings, holding one leg up across a large framed picture that read ‘Lavish’.
-Monte stretched out in a Tina Fey Superstar stance, in front of a large framed picture that read ‘energy’
-Cece on lap of a giant life-size Buddah fingering its belly
–Me in night club bent down in crouch-like position with forefinger over my lip looking up at Monte like a Russian spy. My signature ‘drop it like it’s hot’ Vegas dance move
– Rizza and Cece with T-pain djing between them
I groaned and rolled over grateful for the hotel blinds.
A Warrior Princess