“You can’t grow old gracefully from the bathroom floor of a Vegas hotel.” And other valuable life lessons.

What happens here, stays here. Unless it doesn't.

What happens here, stays here. Unless it doesn’t.

I couldn’t decide if this should simply be a list of lessons learned or a story. And I still haven’t decided. So I guess I’ll do both. I’ll skip certain details of the weekend to protect the guilty 🙂

I learned that…

1) The slot machines will NOT be ignored. They are EVERYWHERE. When we landed, the pilot had to dodge slot machines ON the runway. They followed me up to my hotel room and out the door to catch a cab and when I sat down to eat dinner. I felt assaulted by them. And there seemed to be WAY more than I remember from when I visited Vegas a few years ago. It was sensory overload.

2) Spanx are a Godsend! They make you look smooth and sleek and statuesque. I can’t believe it took me this long to buy some!

3) Spanx are the devil! MAAAAAN! Them bad boys itch, they’re hot, they make you ashy, they suck the life outta you, and make it impossible for you to enjoy your dinner. They give new meaning to the words “beauty is pain”. But other than that, they’re great.

4) Homeless people in Vegas have stepped their game WAY up. Working in D.C., I’ve encountered my fair share of beggars with unique “sales pitches”. And, right or wrong, I’ve been known to give a dollar or two to ones that pleaded a good case or made me laugh. Well, homeless dude on the corner across from my hotel was telling people that he only accepted $100 bills. His rationale was that we needed to save all our change for the aforementioned slot machines, so HE was helping US out by not taking our change. THAT, ladies and gentlemen, was funny!

5) You can’t grow old gracefully from the bathroom floor of a Vegas hotel. After my last friend left, I still had about 3 hours before my flight departed. So I found various ways to fill my time before I headed to the airport. One of those ways was going back to the pool, which I’ll tell you about in a minute. Another way was visiting the restroom in the hotel lobby. But this wasn’t your typical visit. As I was about to depart, a swarm of security guards came in in a tizzy. I’m like, “OMG! What just happened?!” Turns out there was a lady just a few stalls down from me that had taken off ALL her clothes and laid out on the bathroom floor. I guess she called her husband’s cell from the stall and told him she wasn’t coming out unless he came in to get her. He, in turn, called security. As fast as they had rushed into the bathroom, they all came to a screeching halt just as fast once they saw her lying there. They stood there for a while and mumbled amongst themselves, strategizing about what to do next. I felt like I should help them strategize since I was just standing there, too. But I didn’t really have any ideas. So I left. The woman’s husband was standing outside the bathroom door talking to another security guard. He said she was distraught because she was turning 50. I thought to myself, “DUDE! I’m just now turning 33 so I hope THIS isn’t what I have to look forward to in 17 years!” But anyway, off to the pool I went…

6) Don’t go to the pool to relax for an hour before your hotel shuttle arrives to return you to the airport…and then fall asleep. My intentions were to send a few texts, a couple of tweets, and maybe get through another chapter in this (terrible) book I’d started reading. I found a nice low-traffic spot with a good view of the pool area. I parked it, pulled out my phone and my book, and promptly went to sleep. I mean, I guess that’s what happened…I could never really say for sure. Allz I know is that I woke up in a panic because my bag of souvenirs was missing! I checked all the millions of pool chairs in my vicinity…under them, around them…I looked everywhere! So the only logical explanation is that somebody must’ve stolen it, right? I couldn’t believe somebody would come take my souvenirs while I was sleeping! I asked the folks at the bar and the towel stand if anybody had turned in a bag of souvenirs. They said no, and that I should check with security. So off to security I went…

7) Security in Vegas sux! I explained to the lady working the security desk what (I thought) had happened. She said no one had turned in a bag or any of the items similar to what I’d described. I asked her if she could take my name and number and contact me if they were found. She said, “No, we don’t do that here. Just keep checking back until you leave for the airport.” “But I’m leaving very soon!” I said. “Then keep calling us and if someone turns it in, we’ll mail it to you.” I started to wonder if that $47 worth of souvenirs was worth the stress. “Vegas can be a scary town,” she said. “At least they didn’t take your purse!” Way to comfort a panic-stricken tourist, lady. Thanks a lot.

8 ) Security in Vegas really sux! I decided that I would use the few remaining minutes before I got on the shuttle to retrace my steps and locate my souvenirs on my own. I’d already scoured the pool area so I decided to go spend some more quality time in the bathroom. I thought it was very possible that I could have left my bag in there, amidst all the excitement of the naked-lady-turning-50-drama. And I was wrong. Except that I wasn’t. I didn’t find the bag IN the bathroom, but as I walked out, I passed a counter selling bedazzled souvenirs set up right outside the bathroom. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of what looked a lot like my bag! It was the same size, color, and had the same store name printed on the bag. So I went up to the very bedazzled salesgirl and said, “Excuse me. Did anybody turn in a lost bag of souvenirs to you? I believe it would have been found in that bathroom…” “Oh yeah,” she said. “I called security and they sent someone over to pick the bag up. So you can go to the security office to get it.” SERIOUSLY?! “Well, I don’t think security came and got anything…because I see my bag right there behind your counter!” I said. “Oh wow, I guess they didn’t come pick it up!” Stellar customer service, don’t ya think? She must’ve been on whatever that lady lying on the bathroom floor was on.

9) Security in Vegas really, REALLY sux! “I need to pat down your hair.” This is what the TSA rep at the airport said to me as I walked out of that body scan thing. So let me get this straight…ALL these crazies running around Vegas this weekend, but you need to pat down MY hair?! Do you think I’m hiding weapons of mass destruction…IN MY HAIR?! I was already so traumatized by everything that I’d experienced in the hours leading up to my departure, and had just received the news that I would have to sit in a middle seat for the next five and a half hours. I quietly complied with the pat down. I didn’t have the energy to fight it or even question it.

So that’s what I learned while I was in Vegas. Got any good vacation stories or take-aways? Share with me in the comments section.

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About Magnet for Foolishness

Resident of the DMV…and my incessant thoughts. Always hungry. Comedy craver. Ice cream freak. Reality TV show junkie. Slightly opinionated. Rarely wrong. Part Lisa Simpson. Part Sue Sylvester. Part Meredith Grey. Renowned chef and baker…avid gardener…pet lover…sometimes liar. Effortlessly forgetful. Always hungry. Blindly hopeful. Easily embarrassed (NOT). Eerily observant. Searching for something. Disregarding parallelism. Chronically tardy. Ruthlessly impatient. Surprisingly affectionate. Unnecessarily long-winded.
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11 Responses to “You can’t grow old gracefully from the bathroom floor of a Vegas hotel.” And other valuable life lessons.

  1. rp1496RP1496 says:

    So that was soooo not my experience in Vegas. This is Magnet all day!!


  2. Kitta says:

    Not slot machines on the runway. LOL, and why would the husband send in a team of security guards to retrieve his NAKED wife? I would take my chances and go in and get her myself. Those fingers may slip into some cracks as they’re lifting her off the floor.


  3. hermitsdoor says:

    I knew you wouild have some good foolin’ in LV. (Sorry, I’ve been tied up with family visiting here and keeping up on the garden, so I’m behind on reading). One of our trips to LV (remember, in-laws live there, so we might as well be going to B-more) we got on the SW flight with a group of ladies on a ladies-week off. trip They were all dolled up, high heels, sequines, and boozing hard all the way. We went about our family visit. A week later, they were on our same flight. The high heels were replaced with tennis shoes. One ladie was in a wheelchair with an aircast on her ankle. The sequines no longer dazzles, and the LV sweatshirts needed a run through with bleach. The high hair lilted to the left (no need to fisk that hair in security). One women still was playing those slots that line the airport waiting room. Ching-ching-ching. She overfilled her popcorn bucket with quarters. Everyone boarded the plane, glum. She walked on spilling quarters down the ailse, to sit among their scowls and hang-overs. So Vegas!


  4. Shonnerz says:

    We need to go on vacation together. #ThatIsAll


  5. Pingback: To Mexico and back, in one(?) piece. – Part 1 | Magnet for Foolishness®

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