A few weekends ago, it was a complete blur because one moment I was having a latte with Geri and the next moment I was being convinced to pack faster and head to Vegas. No, it wasn’t a shotgun wedding at the Little White Chapel, but more so a reunion between my boyfriend and his old friend from high school. I threw together what I could while my bf made last minute hotel reservations as everything was booked solid for the Pacquaio/Cotto fight. We ended up with a room at the Luxor Hotel, and zipped through the supposed 5 hour roadtrip in less than 4 hours. My tiny bladder cried for mercy the whole trip.
Immediately after checking in, we dragged our asses over to a lounge bar in the Luxor and power-houred drinks to catch up with Peil (bf’s friend from Connecticut). Somewhere along the way of dating an Irishman, I have developed an iron liver or perhaps my “Tank” days from college are making a comeback. So I went shot-for-shot with the boys (Jameson only… yuckkkkk), and drink-for-drink (Vodka rocks or Vodka sodas) and had gigglefests while listening to all their old school stories.
Several hours later into the morning, Peil was beyond wastedface and decided the Women’s Restroom was a great place to venture into. Completely oblivous to his actions, I tried to hook him up with 2 lady friends I met during the Search-and-Rescue mission. Thinking he was in safe hands with the ladies or at least vulturing the bar and circling four times, we left in search of hot tables. End of Night 1: Jack was up a good amount from Black Jack, Peil was down and out hopefully back at Mandalay Bay, and my toesies hurt from my Chanel boots.
Just mere hours later, Jack was back at the tables as I refreshed for the day then walked around the Strip a bit until I was content with the idea of Hubert Keller’s Burger Bar for lunch. During the endless wait to be seated, we shopped for new sunglasses and bubblebath goodness from Lush. Turkey burger BLT & avocado for the misses and an Angus burger with the fixings for the mister. Noshed on sweet potato fries and washed it down with a few Framboise Lambics and IPAs. I definitely wanted to try the Truffled Foie Gras Kobe burger (thisiswhyyourefat.com much?), but our lunch alone was already $80 so one $70 burger didn’t seem thatttttt enticing.
After lunch, we met back up with Peil and the other Connecticutian boys while soaking up some sun. Turns out Peil had a tussle with an undercover cop after we left him to his own devices. How far gone must you be to almost go to hotel jail? Anyhooo… more drinking and gambling occurred, I disco napped, then we got gussied up for dinner and our night out.
Noshed a decent dinner of Seared Scallops and Celery puree with an Apple slaw from Company Kitchen (along with other dishes like the Seared Tuna with a citrus vinaigrette and wasabi greens, Homemade Crispy Ranch Chips, Japanese 7 Spiced Fries, and BBQ Pulled Pork and Andouille Sausage Sandwich). Headed to Caesars Palace to meet up the boys, only to find Peil puking like a sick puppy. We waited… and waited… and waited. The kid was M.I.A. So we continued on imbibing and gambling in a central area as we continued to wait for his reappearance. After over an hour and no word after several Search-and-Rescue missions, we party hopped from Cotto’s afterparty at Pure (loser’s can have fun too!) then onto Pacquaio’s party at Jet (if you have yellow fever, then you were in heaven) and then over to the Bank at the Bellagio, where Derek Jeter had his pick of the pussy litter.
Best part of the ENTIRE trip for me was not the club scene, but actually being hot on the Bellagio craps table. It was like in the movies where women are blowing on the dice, except I had men blowing on mine. Won several thousand for everyone at the table, and somehow I walked away even? Oh well, it’s just fun and games. Lesson learned: never come to Vegas on a boys trip and less drinking and more picture taking next time.