Viva Las Vegas Confessions

Las Vegas Airport

I was SO DANG EXCITED to finally be in Las Vegas for Spring Break 2011!

How excited? Wellll within 2 minutes of departure, the cowboy hat was out and I instantly busy greeting every other human I saw in the airport with a big fat “Howdy!”

What did I have to fear? I had my hot posse of girlfriends in tow who are just as obnoxious and Texas-friendly as I was.

 ..right?

Yea, FALSE.  I didn’t realize they were a good 10 feet behind me taking pictures.

What happens in Vegas… March 18, 2011

How do we know stuff? How does a majority of the US population obtain most of their learned knowledge?

If your first thought is school, then well…that’s sweet. And cute. And entirely incorrect. The real answer is...

MOVIES. Duh.

I must say though, no movie successfully prepared me for the real-life-Vegas I experienced this past week.

I’ll lay out the broad logic I decided on-

I found there to be many truths and lies behind the famous saying-

“What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas”.

Truths:

I blame the Australian Thunder from Down Under boys for this mishap. Their little Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy routine left my head all crazy and...incoherent.

...ahem anyways, the POINT. 
In true cliché form, I embarrassingly lost my purse at a club on the last night we were there.
So yes, it’s true-

What happens in Vegas really does stay in Vegas

 

…including your credit cards, I.D. and cell phone.

Another unfortunate happening (that thankfully took place the day we were headed home) was when I came down with a fever. (Quit, I’m not talking about herps or anything)

So to revamp the famous Hangover movie quote in order to make it true to my specific situation-

What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas

…except strep throat, that s--- will come back with you”

Lie:

While friends are busy clicking away - capturing memories with their cameras, video recorders, etc, one can’t help but come to the conclusion-

Yet again, Sure- what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas

….until it hits Facebook.

Incommunicado

Picture this –

The girls and I land in Vegas. Many pit stops were made while walking around the first day and pretty much all of them involved large curvy drinking cups with some sort of exotic fruit balancing on the brim that's too pretty to eat. One such stop was Jimmy Buffet’s Margaritaville.

Vegas tends to charge around $8589976.00 per beverage so I was purposely browsing the menu for something STRONG, for it may be the only drink I’d have for awhile.

I ended up going against the grain by ordering what was called an Incommunicado instead of a Banana-something-something Margarita like everyone else.

This was the drink description-

.5 oz Vodka
.5 oz Margaritaville® Silver Tequila
.5 oz Rum
.5 oz Triple Sec
.25 oz Gin
.25 oz Grenadine
...and a splash of cranberry juice.

Not only did I have to plug my nose like some high school amateur with every sip, but when we got up to leave I actually flipped my metal chair backwards.

Uh huh, I know. Awful. It’s not over.

The fiasco ended with a stab to a poor old woman's arm that was sitting behind me in a hot pink cabana shirt.

“Some people say that there's a woman to blame…”

sigh...guilty.