Musings: The Sack of Vegas

(That’s what she said!)

I was in the process of composing an email recapping IdesVegas for a friend and it started getting pretty involved, so I thought I’d post it here.

Read about every bleary, vomitatious, epically disgusting, and otherwise epic moment, after the jump…

Friday. 11pm. Arrive at McCarran. Wait in the taxi line for about 15 mins in front of the drunkest, Vegasiest pushing-40 ladies ever, one of whose names is apparently Tracy.

11.30pm. Check in at MGM Grand. Decide to meet folks at O’Shea’s for low-stakes craps before eating. This proves a tactical mistake, as I discover that the only food option nearby is a food court. End up wolfing a TenderGrill Chicken sandwich, courtesy of Burger King.

Saturday. 12am. @autgoff puts out a $20 bounty for the most embarrassing photo of @meganbradley at IdesVegas.

1.32am. Stumble over to a kinda sad, sketchy kararoke bar off the Strip, whereupon we are told by the karaoke lady that we are too late to put in any more songs for the evening.

3am. Bribe the karaoke lady into letting us select a few songs, finishing with a committed, but somewhat tone-deaf, rendition of “End of the Road” by Boyz II Men that kind of brings the house down.

4am. Asleep.

11am. Awake. And not happy about it.

1.45pm. Brunch. Win $10 off @laurenday betting on when the waiter will come by to take our order.

3.30pm. Wander around the mall at Caesar’s Palace and window-shop at the high-end retail stores in the midst of the financial apocalypse.

5.30pm. @autgoff purchases a upwards of 100 cans of beer in anticipation of Saturday night flipcup and stores them in a jacuzzi full of ice. (Due to intervening events, they will not be consumed.)

7pm. Pile into an effing stretch hummer limo to go to dinner, because (i) we are disgusting, and (ii) it was actually not outrageously expensive compared to taking a fleet of taxis.

7.15pm. Prix fixe dinner including all-you-can-drink (and surprisingly drinkable!) wine. We are “treated” to two choruses of happy birthday played by an accordion-playing dwarf.  (No, really.)

9.30pm. Begin waiting in line to get into Pure, the nightclub at Caesar’s. We are supposedly in the “VIP” line, which, I guess, means that you get to wait in line with a ringside seat to some rather perfunctory cage-dancing. Several of us grow cranky. Bouncer-type gives one of us a hard time because he evidently has run afoul of the dress code, which apparently requires that you (1) wear a jacket, (2) have fancy shoes, or (3) be a lady. Fortunately, we come up with an ingenious workaround.

10.30pm. Doors open.

10.45pm. Performance at Pure by the Pussycat Dolls, which somehow manages to make hot ladies, water, gyrating, and cigarettes not sexy.



11.27pm. Discover outdoor balcony, which is markedly less oppressive. Inform the others and prevail over @autgoff in a test of wills.

Sunday. 12.45am. Spot Tracy (from the taxi line) on the balcony and decide it’s probably time to go.

1.12am. Back at the MGM, inquire into the status of flipcup. @autgoff claims 2 am, but her last tweet leaves me somewhat skeptical, so I give up and go to bed.

9am. Awake. Curious as to how the rest of the evening turned out.

9.17am. Receive text: “Urgh.i think i made out w a 22 year old last night?” (I later learn that the 22 year-old make-outee is an Iraq War vet.)

9.27am. Receive text: it seems one of our party “puked into every trash can in ceasars and is STILL DRUNK.”

11.30am. Brunch, where I learn of additional awesome facts, including, among other things, (1) passing out in front a slot machine, (2) taking off after others through Caesar’s wearing only one shoe, and (3) a contest for male attention, which, it would appear, neither contestant actually won.

12.30pm. Recovery by the pool at the MGM, then off to McCarran to escape before the Visigoths descend.

#twss #idesvegas #vegas #mgmgrand #osheas #caesarspalace #musings #drinking #battistas #karaoke #ellisisland #pure #pussycatdolls #hummerlimo #disgusting #autgoff #meganbradley #laurenday


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