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Lysol Please

28 Feb

Every year I take a company required trip…

To Las Vegas.

 

And every year, I am reminded that I HATE this city.

Now…

I know that the entire city is not like the “strip”

But that is all I see.

Ergo.

 

 

Departing the plane, the first thing I hear:

Ping…. Ping….. ding…. Ping….

Ding ding ding

We have a winner.

You just won 100.00

Now you are down only 300.00

 

So these people are gambling right there at the gate.

Which means…

That you either cannot make it to baggage claim without your fix…

OR

You did not get enough during you stay.

And just have to throw away a bit more money…

Before your plane takes off in 25 minutes.

 

Whatever…

Gambling is just not my “thang”…

At all.

I work too hard for my money…

And am cheap.

So if you think you are getting even 10.00 from me…

To play blackjack…

You will have to pry it out of my cold dead hand.

 

I have forgotten the buzz of Vegas.

And how much I cannot stand it.

I just need to get to the hotel.

All will be good then.

Breathe Kelly!

 

“TAXI”

I am in.

Just wondering what icky soul was here before me.

As we are pulling out…

I ask:
“Do you take American Express”

Which?

Resulted in the driver nearly standing on the brake

And propelling me in to the germ infested seat in front of me

Leaving the stained residue of my Nars Orgasm Lip Gloss

As a reminder to the next passenger

Never to repeat such a heinous question.

 

My God!  You would have thought I asked the guy to exchange internal organs or something.

“Ma’am…No! Only Cash.  I stop quick so you can get out now if you don’t have cash”

What in the hell!

 

I have arrived at the hotel…

It is a very nice one, for that I am thankful.

But even at the front desk, I am shocked and wondering…

Why does everyone here look like a hooker?

Oh yea…

They ARE hookers.

 

My colleague, whom I see upon check-in, says the term is now escort.

Escort?

For real?

I don’t know…maybe they are a bit more classy in their faux white fur and bronze sequin tube tops

But Escort?

Splitting hairs my friend.

 

Perhaps I am spoiled because I live in Denver but…

The smoke is stifling.

I mean knock you down…

I need a mask right now…

STIFLING!

My contacts are shriveling up from the smoke…

And my hair is falling.

OMG …how much further?

 

And to get to our meeting room, I have to pass through the entire casino…

A 20 minute walk.

It is 11 a.m.

All the casino girls…

Have short skirts and very high heels…

I’m pretty sure at least three of them are dating Charlie Sheen    (EWWWWWW!)

 

 

 

I pass three bachelorette parties en route.

 

Each girl toting a yard of her favorite cocktail

 

And sporting a mock bridal veil.

 

Oh… and little else.

 

 

I can tell you with certainty…

if the planets ever do all align…

and I get married.

I would rather celebrate by camping in the bitter cold…

for a month…

without my hairdryer…

or mascara…

and with Ann Coulter..

than have a bachelorette party in Vegas.

 

Just about there…

To our conference room

Wondering how many of our guys we lost in transmit.

“Kelly… I couldn’t help it….

Simone said this table was a sure thing”

 

I have found our room.

The team is here.

Clad in khakis and button downs.

Who says techies aren’t trend setters?

 

I cannot help but chuckle.

About this little pod of normal…

Amid hooker heaven just outside the door.

And I think that this is day 1 of 4.

And I want to cry…

and go to my room to “de-skank” myself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Posted by on February 28, 2011 in Travel

 

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