Vegas

July 6, 2015

300 Dollars!!! You can’t be serious?! Why does a flight to Vegas from San Francisco cost $300? I can fly to New York City for the same price. What is so great about Vegas? It’s only an 8 hour drive and 2 hour flight so how does the airlines justify this ghastly ripoff? Because people are willing to pay. Dumb, stupid people raising the rate of my airline ticket. Well for all those SF-Vegas weekend partiers I detest you. You are the same people who will crowd me at the bar and step on my feet with your spiky heels or scuffed Oxford. You will blow smoke in my face and stand in front of me in line gossipy about how slutty the other girls are dressed. Ok enough of the venting. 

Why am I going to Vegas? The only reason one should go. Bachelorette party. Now unlike my sister and Catherine Heigel in “27 Dresses” I haven’t been a bridesmaid very often. Only twice and one was for my sister’s wedding. Now my best friend is getting married and I’m in the wedding line again. She is from Slovakia and her fiancé is from Canada. Not the nearby convenient west coast Canada, but Toronto, Canada. So she is having a wedding ceremony in both countries and wanted me at both. Now I love this girl, but my bank account was starting to hold a grudge. After researching flights for Vegas, Slovakia, and Canada, I realized I needed to dump my boyfriend and get a sugar daddy or eliminate one of the wedding destinations. I couldn’t find any sugar daddies so I faulted to the latter. My last effort to go to both weddings was to start a social fundraising campaign. You never know what billionaire would sympathize with a girl trying to attend her best friend’s wedding(s). Well when no one wanted to donate to my cause I told my friend she had to pick which wedding she wanted me at the most.

The Slovakia wedding was more meaningful for her, but they didn’t have bridesmaids in Slovakia. Therefore, she needed me at the Canadian wedding. As amazing as, going to Slovakia again would be, it was more financially bearable to fly to Canada. So with that in mind I figured I’d have to at least make it to the bachelorette party as well. Besides I haven’t seen Hana in over a year and the time you get with the bride during the wedding fury is limited. In Vegas we can have some stress free fun. Well, obviously not financially stress free. I quickly realized that I might have committed too soon. I mean how much quality time will I really get at a bachelorette party? I don’t even know any of the girls going. And Vegas? I feel a little old for Vegas. I don’t stay up past midnight anymore and I gave up wearing heels in college after those 3 attempts. I rarely drink. Did I say she was my “best” friend? More like really really good friend. Did I mention that tickets were $300. That’s not including hotel room and food and drinks and whatever other mayhem might occur. My estimations leave me at $700 out of the door. I was in trouble. I was wondering what kind of music award, cosplay expo, or playboy convention was happening that same weekend. There’s no way that was the normal price. How was everyone else affording this? The other bridesmaids lived in Orange County, which was only a 4 hour drive away. San Francisco is an 8 hour drive away. That’s 2 days of driving, plus gas, and more days off work which wouldn’t end up being any cheaper. My teenage self figured that I would be a millionaire by now. I’d be a pro tennis player or famous movie director. I felt like I’ve let my younger self down…. or did she let my future self down? Either way $700 is still a lot of mulah. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do. I have to go, but I have to pay rent. I want to see Hana and celebrate, but I’d to have to share her with so many people. Then I remembered that Hana was staying an extra night with Anna, another college tennis team-mate. I could leave a day later and stay a day longer with them. I checked the flights and they were cheaper on Saturday (- $30) and the second night I wouldn’t be in an expensive suite (-$60). Also, I could still work on Friday (+$64… yay for minimum wage) and Monday I only worked in the late afternoon so I wouldn’t have to take work off. It would be perfect. Well not perfect, but $154 cheaper kinda perfect. It was settled. I bit the bullet and got a flight for Saturday-Monday.

Once I confirmed the bridesmaids added me to the “list”. Now you know that friend that does everything for you? Goes above and beyond and expects everyone else to do the same. No? I don’t have one either, but they always seem to be mutual friends with my friends. 

This is the string from the Facebook group conversation.
 
“Hello Ladies! We just checked hotel rooms and decided that we are going to book a Hard Rock Hotel Suite. It is $600 per two nights and sleeps 6 people – considering that two will sleep on a couch. We will pay for Hana’s portion that way it will be approximately $125 with tax and fees, if it’s 6 of us. Plus we want to hire a stripper for 30 min show that goes for $125. We obviously chose a hottie – will see how close he will be to the picture Therefore, everybody has to count at $250 per person. We need to know ASAP – so far we have 6 people – me, Hana, Anna, Miska, Lucia and Amy. If anybody else wants to come, please let us know so we can figure out the room situation as the rooms are selling out quickly. I am super excited to see you ladies! It’s going to be the best weekend ever!!”
 
Why is there always that one person in the group that makes me feel like a bad friend? First off, I thought the rule of thumb was that if the bride asked the bridal party to travel then she pays her own way. Right?! Or am I just being a stickler? Also, who needs a suite? I know I won’t get one night of good sleep anyway. All we need is a place to change so we might as well check out hostels. Lastly, I did not realize that people still hired strippers. I know strip clubs exist, but people coming into your hotel room sounds a little 80s to me. Next thing I know we will be doing coke on a mirror using a busted pink Schick razor blade. God help me. 
 
Over Facebook chat the leader of the pack said what the weekend itinerary was going to be.
 
“We are seeing Calvin Harris on Friday night, Avicii on sat at the pool, Diplo on Saturday night and Morgan page on Sunday pool”
 
Wait! I’m missing Calvin Harris! Life why? Why would he perform on a Friday?! What a cruel world. Damn my Saturday-Monday plan. So as I sat at work on the Friday night before I left for Vegas I hoped that Harris got sick and decided to reschedule for the next day. I started to wonder if money was a silly thing to worry about. I worked so hard to save a few bucks, but for what? To work while everyone else had fun? 
 
OH Calvin. I’ll just have to jam out on Spotify.
 

 
Well 9 hours later I was on the plane to Arizona… yep I had a layover. It takes 8 hours to drive to Vegas and it took 6 hours due to my layover. Once I landed in the City of Sin I had to take off all my SF layers and slip on my swim suit and summer dress cause it was already 30 degrees warmer than home. I was instructed to head straight to the Encore pool party at the Wynn resort. Of course, this is not where we were staying so I had to pretend to the baggage check that my room wasn’t ready yet so he’d take my luggage. What do they care as long as I give them a good tip. I then found the girls in a long line for the pool. Now they said they were gonna wake up early to get on the “list”, but hangovers and early morning wake ups tend to be mutually exclusive. So we were all roasting in a line of sunburnt zombies moaning and groaning for their next drink. As we slowly inch our way to the front it has become known that the club is at capacity. Now our option is to wait in line for hours and with no guarantee of getting in or… bribe the bouncer? Yep, I didn’t think that was an option either, but these 4 determined Slovakians knew how to get what they want. I have never been involved in a bribe before and I did not like it one bit. Why should 7 sexy women have to pay extra to get into a pool party? There went another $50. Once inside, the next trick was finding a group of guys that had bottle service. Hey I don’t make the rules I just follow them. After 2 hours we were in VIP when Avicii went on stage. I like these rules. I did feel bad for the one girl partying with all her guy friends when the horniest one of the bunch let’s all 7 of us girls enjoy all their drinks. Not bad enough. Her dream world wasn’t going to last long anyways. If it wasn’t us it would have been another group of girls. At least our group is made up of mostly unavailable girls who wouldn’t make out with strangers. I said most of us. Don’t judge. 
 
Here’s a little taste of we got to enjoy.
 

After 6 hours at the pool party we had to get ready for the stripper. By that I mean decorate before he got there. So a couple of us girls left earlier to decorate and luckily grab food. I didn’t know what these girls were surviving on, but I was starving. I was longing for a buffet, but we only had time for a food court. Now I’m no health guru, but food court food isn’t an ideal situation when I’m expected to continue drinking and staying up all night. So I grabbed the one thing that is familiar to my digestion. Wendy’s chili. Don’t worry everyone else thought it was weird too. And no I didn’t fart all night. I wanted to have 2 chilis, but the peer pressure got to me.
 
Once the room was decorated everyone crowded in to toast Hana and wait for the stripper. I’ve never had a stripper or seen one perform so I was a little nervous. When the stripper showed up he had his bouncer with him. However, I think we all needed our own bouncers. Each girl took a turn sitting down in a chair while he gave us a lap dance. A very handsy lap dance. By the end of my turn I thought he should have paid me. One girl I think will forever be traumatized. Note to self do not get stripper for my bachelorette party. I think I’ll rent Magic Mike instead. Once the stripper left the girl’s got ready for the club. Even though my sister is a make up artist I still don’t understand why it takes women so long to get ready. I was ready in 30 minutes and that included a shower and leg shave. At least waiting for the girls gave me time to take a nap. Around 11:30pm they woke me up to head out to the club. I wasn’t sure how I was going to survive the night. One option was taking coke, but then there’s the whole “what if I really like it thing?” Who cares! Bust out the 80s mirror and pink razor blade… Mom I’m kidding. Besides I know how to have fun completely sober. Not that I planned on it, but I know how. Years of entertaining myself as a homeschooler. Right about now you all are thinking, “Dang this girl must have been so popular!” Yep. Home Coming Queen every year. 
 
We got into the club bribe free. Once inside the ladies scouted the room for some more suckers with bottle service. They happened to find a bachelor party of guys from Mexico. No they weren’t drug dealers. Quit stereotyping.  There were around 10 guys and they had all been friends since grade school. I had never met such a big group of close friends. They were all so fun and nice and we just talked, danced, and hung out all night. Every one of the girls had a great time with the respectful bunch. The only guy that got a little handsy was one of the gay guys, which is always forgivable for some reason. I didn’t forgive him, but some girls do. If it wasn’t for this group of guys I wouldn’t have been able to stay up till 5am. Normally when I get to a club I’m get fed up at the end of the night with drunk dudes desperate to get a girl home. Those girls are usually my friends. That is what happens when your friends average around 5’10, European, and are ridiculously sexy. I don’t like to wear heels, show cleavage, and I quit drinking around 2am cause like to stay in control. So I’m the perfect cock block friend, “Sorry dude she’s with us.” However, with these guys it was like being surrounded by affirming big brothers. They kept saying you are so cool and they couldn’t believe I was having fun without drinking. You have a great personality… which said at a club isn’t meant to be a compliment, but I’m too cocky to take it any other way. They loved my flat red shoes. My short hair. I never wanted to leave. As if my ego wasn’t big enough I had all these darling, cute men telling me how cool, adorable, and funny I am. Geez. Not your typical clubbing experience right? By the time we all parted it felt like I was saying goodbye to friends. When we all got in the taxi we asked who got someone’s info. Not one of us got anyone’s number. Nooooo!!! Someone always grabs a contact. I didn’t bring my phone so I didn’t bother. When I go dancing I bring an ID, cash, card. If it can’t fit in my bra I don’t bring it. Nothing worse than worrying about a purse all night and we all know that girl’s outfits don’t come with decent pockets. Oh well. 
 
After 5 hours of sleep we are up again and headed back to a pool party. After saying goodbye to some of the ladies leaving for LA we met up with another girl who had “connections” to get us into the same pool party as yesterday. No one wanted to stop for breakfast because we were in a hurry, but luckily I had some food bars and fruit with me. Men would never go this long without a decent meal. I don’t understand how some women can starve like this. Unfortunately, I was stopped by the bouncer for trying to bring in food and water. You can’t even bring in water! So I went off the side and stuffed my face and drank 1 liter of water before going inside. I wasn’t going to pay $8 for water so I decided to fit in all in at once. Sundays at the pool aren’t nearly as busy so we got to relax a bit while drinking too many pitchers of spiked lemonade. We then migrated to some unknown to me celebrity’s table. I was just happy they had bottled water.
 
 
 
We stayed at the pool till around 5pm before we headed back to MGM. Don’t tell the baggage claim at Encore. When w got back to the room, Anna was more tired than hungry so it was just Hana and I left alone to finally grab dinner. I will never forget my first bite of that delicious pizza in the underground mall at a place called Project Pie. After a couple of hours of talking we went back upstairs for a nap before we headed back out to a club. We set an alarm for 10:30pm. When the alarm went off we both agreed to hit snooze indefinitely. Well at least till 1am, which is when I was somehow wide awake. Figures. My flight was at 6am so I only had 3 hours left to… dance, gamble, eat again? However, we were a little far from the strip to even walk around. So I stretched and muddled on the internet for about 2 hours before I said goodbye to Hana and went downstairs to grab a taxi. Somehow sharing a taxi with two Brazilians ended costing me more than half the taxi. What do you mean between the two of you no one has enough cash? Awkward con artists. Once on the flight home I was able to reflect on the weekend. I’ve never done Vegas the Vegas way. It didn’t disappoint. I mean strippers, parties, alcohol, and no sleep. That about sums it up for everyone right? I am starting to feel a little old to party this hard. It’ll take me a week to just get my sleep back and a year before I’m ready for Vegas again. In the end I was so glad I went. I got to meet the other bridesmaids who were all so nice and amazing. Hana does pick out great friends. Also, catching up with my best mate was awesome. I’ll let you know how worth it is after I land and go straight to work for the rest of the day… Still worth it. 
 

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