Viva Las Floogin..

The hangover is finally fading, the body slowly recovering from the lack of sleep and I'm now back at work and ready to talk about Vegas.

I know, what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. Know why?

Me Neither.

It's a strange place. All neon lights and pretend tourist destinations. Who, in their right mind, picks a Vegas hotel over going to Paris, NYC, Egypt, Rome, Venice, etc is beyond me but, apparently, they do. This is why you drive thru the city and, as you gaze out the window of your car, it looks like you are scanning the pages of a travel brochure. It is truly strange.

And somewhat sad.

Driving thru the area felt like I was on a back lot at some Hollywood studio. It was like making a wrong turn in Disney's Hollywood Studios, and finding yourself in some after hours version of the park. Adults only.

Don't get me wrong, I had a blast. I saw college friends that I haven't seen in close to twenty years. I spent time with my college roommates and all my old partners in crime. I stayed out until after 6 am, we laughed our asses off. Some funny stories will never be told but they happened.

Of course, the group I was with would have had the same good time if we were in New Orleans, Houston, Anchorage, Des Moines. We didn't need the blinking lights and the bells and whistles of Vegas to have a good time.

Sure, being surrounded by hookers who want to grind and gyrate with you until you realize you might as well take her upstairs for the $500 because there are no freebies in the joint tonight.

I'm under the impression that every woman out at night is a prostitute. I'm not calling all women hookers. Not at all. I just think that every woman we saw during the time out there was willing to fuck for $500. That's right. I personally turned down more solicitations to bump and grind in one night than I've turned down in my entire life. Women hit on me but not with the frequency or the aggressiveness that every woman in Vegas hit on me and every other guy there.

They all want to party. They want to dance in your little VIP section, drink you always flowing booze, snort some of your drugs (if you got em), and they'll do this all night long, always reminding you that, at the end of the night, the entry fee to her club is $500.

OK, maybe they aren't all hookers. They might all figure, hell, I'm going to get fucked up with the guy, drink his booze, dance with him and snort his drugs. I'll probably end up fucking him anyway, maybe I can clip him for some coin too.

One of the guys in our group took home two girls that had been partying all night with some of the gang. When the fucking had ended, they asked for their money and he said he thought they wanted to fuck, not fuck him. He claimed to have had no clue they were hookers, told them he was tapped out, broke and he's sorry.

So they pissed on his leg (no shit) on left. No pimp showed up to break his legs or steal his luggage or hang him from the balcony until a friend came and grabbed some cash for him. This leads me to believe most girls in Vegas are amateurs. They charge for it but they often get screwed and fucked. A pro would have taken the money first. A pro would have had a better contingency plan than pissing on the guy's leg.

These women help make Vegas what it is. A flashy, soulless town.

Vegas is depressing. It has no history, no soul. Every city was built on something. Not Vegas. Built in the oppressive heat of the desert, built for the sole purpose of drawing people in and taking their money.

New Orleans, Los Angeles, New York City, Chicago, Boston, Paris, London, Rome, Venice, Munich, Tokyo, Moscow....Vegas.


Vegas is new, it's flashy, it's loud, sleazy, it's fuck, it's like being in a quiet restaurant on St. Barth's and being embarrassed by the loud group of drunk Americans at the next table. Vegas is that loud, embarrassing group. Vegas is to cities, what Texas is to states and what Americans is to people. Don't get me wrong, I'm proud to be an American but I know that, globally, when people think American, they think Texan. Loud, obnoxious, bit low on class, bit flashy, perhaps a bit sleazy.

I'm sure there are normal parts of Vegas and I know there are normal people there because I know a couple of them but, still, overall, it's a pretty fucked up joint and by living there, you are, to some degree, becoming part of that fucked up joint.

By the way, I've already booked my room for the next bachelor party in Vegas.