So Monday in Vegas was spent shopping with The Lovely Rhonda and Allie. Josh opted out as he is not much of a shopper. Mel and Marie wanted to bask their comely figures by the pool since a) cheap drinks could be had there and b) they are from Minnesota where, as they delighted in telling us, it was currently snowing.
Once the fun of shopping was over we found ourselves at the Hard Rock Cafe.
The food was great and there were things to look at, like some Britney Spears costumes and a hairy jacket belonging to John Entwistle of The Who.
And a real live Elvis leisure suit of which sadly I did not get a photo! Rhonda drank a really enormous beer. We felt cool for a few minutes, both literally and figuratively.
We also wandered through the Coca-Cola store where the polar bear was available for photos also. It seems that Vegas is filled with casinos and people in costumes to take photos with. Rhonda pretended to be freaked out by the bear who of course made creepy advances to her every time we passed by. It was hilarious. And creepy.
As we walked back to the bus stop or some casino or something, who cares what, I saw this sign and was amused:
After that we went back to the hotel and cleaned up a bit for the Penn & Teller show. Which was super fun! Penn Jillette is both smart AND tall. And Teller is like a cheeky little elf next to him. I learned a few things and laughed like an asshole many times.
Once we’d been mystified and hoodwinked we set out for The Fremont Experience, because Mel and Marie were supposed to meet up with us there, but there was an unfortunate occurrence in which Marie fell into a large amount of alcohol and the only cure was to dance with strangers and almost get abducted. We received several texts from Mel on this topic, each one more desperate than the last, and TLR was ready to mobilize in defense of Marie’s endangered virtue. But Mel prevailed by sheer force of will and managed to hustle Marie into a cab and spirit her away back to the hotel, so by the time we got to Fremont they had left. This did not stop us from checking out the Fremont Street Experience, which is super cool. The only way it could be better was if I had a lawn chair and a yard-o-marg, but we made do with standing around gawking like tourists.
I know you both will find this shocking, but there on Fremont we also found a variety of people in costumes standing around for photo opportunities. One of these, of whom I sadly do not have a photo, was a rather scroungy looking guy in high heels and short of the “Daisy Duke” variety, also a halter top, and wielding, for reasons known only to himself, an inflatable toy hammer. I believe he wanted people to pay him for the privilege of appearing in a photo with them, but everyone stayed away. Like, far away. Comically far away. I would have felt sorry for him but he was a grown man in Daisy Dukes, a halter top, and ugly pumps. Clearly he had brought this on himself. As they said when I was doing my practicum in the regional burn center: A lot of people end up here as a result of making a long series of really unfortunate decisions in their lives.
Then we saw him: ELVIS.
The REAL Elvis.
And of course we had to give him five bucks to marry us in the street.
He was pretty frisky, and I found that it was necessary to specify NO HUMPING.
A little later on we came across a couple of the guys from KISS, and Josh let a girlish shriek fly. We therefore had to agree to get his picture with them too.
At some point we hopped a cab back to the hotel and after drinking and gambling to a very slight excess we wandered off to bed ourselves. The end.