Vegas Buffet VIP > Club VIP

I can't sleep which is pretty fucked since I fought my exhaustion all day and I absolutely blame Vegas (and possibly 5 Hour Energy residuals coursing through my brain's synapses).

Three nights was definitely a long enough stay. Last night we forced ourselves to call it quits around 2:30 because we didn't want the drive back home today to be miserable. Besides my feet throbbing as if I were giving Andre the Giant a piggyback ride during the walks home, the previous two nights retirements to bed cannot be remembered. I easily drank more in the last three nights than should be allowed. I'm fairly certain that even if I lay passed out on the floor of a casino but still managed to raise up my drinking hand with one of those ridiculously large party cups in the shape of woman's leg, or a guitar, or a toilet...someone would be kind enough to help me out and fill 'er up. As it were, my body is rejecting me right now. Last night, when it told me it had had enough, I pushed on, ignoring its need for normalcy. I made myself mix in a few non-alcoholic glasses of water and Sprite in between rounds...but really I was just kidding myself. Today, I'm the bitch.

I can't fully decide if I like the strip. At night, there is no denying how impressive it all is: the lights and music and aesthetics and intensity. During the day though...the casinos, the trash lining the streets to our hotel, the homeless, the hungover, the human feces that I saw at least twice on the sidewalk, the unwanted cards of girls...there is just a cloud of depression and despair that co-exists, like coming down from some sort of high.

I don't like Vegas because of the masses of people everywhere. They're standing in front of me having to get the perfect picture (with their i-pads). They're not understanding basic common courtesies like how to wait in line or proximity guidelines. They're honking and yelling "compliments" from their cars. They're walking in front of me while on facebook and twitter and snapchat and they've completely forgotten how to walk. (Make like a car and pull the fuck over if you're going to do that shit.) It all becomes a little much.

I like Vegas for the exact same reason. There are quite literally thousands of people looking to have a good time. Chances are you're going to make some part-time friends with random people who might not even speak the same language and it's going to be awesome.

I don't like Vegas because I find it kind of hard to get dressed. Yes, I could simply wear jeans and heels and a tank top and be just fine. I can also wear cute little dresses and skirts and heels. The downside is that normal social graces aren't really acknowledged. I don't like being made to feel like a buffet option from some of the drunk zombies nor do I enjoy the judgement emanating from some of the women who appear to be deciding if my dress is too short as opposed to playing their slutslot, slut machines.

I like Vegas because I can walk around and ride in taxis with a drink not far from my lips. Since the rest of our country frowns upon this, it kind of feels bad ass to not have to follow normal laws.

I don't like Vegas for the pretentiousness that unfortunately follows money and the appearance of money. The guys who walk around with their suits and ear pieces and notepads and "cards" and douchbag dickery are so completely unappealing, I truly wonder if anyone outside of them is impressed.

I like Vegas because there are plenty of shows to see, foods to eat, things to do. We went to an Andy Warhol exhibit one day and danced to old school hip hop one night. Zumanity, the Bellagio Buffet, a club with a waterfall inside, making part-time friends...these are not aspects of a normal week for me. It's not real life.

I don't like Vegas because as I sit here almost 24 hours since last being in a casino, I can still taste smoke.

I like Vegas because I can go see a show like Zumanity that includes nudity and foul language and inappropriate subject matter and nobody gives a shit. It's just not a big deal.

I don't like Vegas because even though I've admitted to drinking a substantial amount--no one had to carry me home and I wasn't rude to anyone and I'm fairly positive I didn't do anything terribly embarrassing. I can't even begin to understand what it is like for those working in the service industry having to interact all shift long with the drunken zombies grunting their orders and paying with their last pennies and passing out and throwing up and in general just being stupid. It makes sense that most people we encountered working on the strip were either sugary sweet (trying to make money) or completely rude (trying to make it through their shift). I couldn't do it.

Lastly, I like Vegas because at 36 years old, I don't feel too old to be out dancing. There are plenty of people older than me out there. Sometimes in my normal life I miss going out to bars and clubs to dance for hours, most nights I don't. But those few times I talk myself into "reliving the good old days", it's just not the same. I spent most of my twenties out dancing every weekend, but I'm not twenty any more. The music inside one bar in Treasure Island made me feel like I'd come home. They played Next and R. Kelly and OutKast and Jay Z and  Missy Elliott --some old favorites that welcomed me in, made me smile, and made me dance.


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