You’re so ugly when I’m sober

So I’m back from Vegas, finally. (I was actually in California, Oregon and Washington too, but that will be an entirely separate post full of funny observations and atrocious generalizations.)

Vegas is like that guy you dated in your first year or two of college. You were obsessed with him. You had his class schedule almost memorized to the point that you could inconspicuously place yourself near him at least three times a day. Cue awkward eye contact, a rush of blood to the face (or the crotch) and physical abuse of your best friend as an outlet for your ravaging nerves.

Then you started dating. And everything was really, really good. I’m talking bed-shaking, head-spinning good. But then you either realized something about him that really turned you off (drug abuse problem, still calls his mother “Mommy,” has really long fingernails, etc) or you simply got bored of him.

I know that every Vegas trip you have in life basically serves as a planning session for the next one until you magically have “THAT time we went to Vegas” but this is my basic relationship with Vegas to date:

Day 1:

Awww maaan! This place is awe-soooommme!!!!! OMGOMG you can just drink on the streets. It’s so HOT! Let’s get all dressed up tonight and hit every club in the whole entire city!! I swear to God I’m going to party for 23 hours, STRAIGHT. I don’t even want to feel my face. I even bought new shoes. Man, there’s boobs everywhere! WEEEEE, let’s start drinking by the pool!!

Night 1:

Holy shit my feet hurt. I’m going to take these shoes off and just walk barefoot. Casino carpet can’t be that dirty, right? It’s carpet! Where’s everyone getting those big, tacky, sugary slurpee drinks? We definitely need eight of them.

Day 2:

WTF, you assholes let me walk around in bare feet?! Can you get syphilis in your feet? Where’s my credit card? My skin is bubbling. Seriously, look at it. What’s 102 degrees in Celsius? About the same as a fiery pit in the deepest layer of Hell? Perfect, thanks.

Night 2:

Why is everyone at Pure high on cocaine when 5 litres of vodka is only $12 at Food Maxx?

Day 3:

This blackjack dealer is a bitch.

Night 3:

ARRRGGGHHHH I DO NOT WANT ANY OF YOUR LITTLE FUCKING PORNO CARDS, ENTIENDES PENDEJO? LEAVE ME ALONE!!!

S.

3 comments

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s