In order to properly experience Vegas, BeCuz and I channeled our inner celebrity. We started by turning on the Vegas visitor channel and watching the Kardashians discuss what to do and wear while in Sin City. “We should spend this weekend in the ‘what would a Kardashian do’ mindset,” I told BeCuz. “No thanks. I’m not in the mood to get married,” she replied.
We finished getting ready and, as a final touch, splashed ourselves with a little Paris Hilton perfume (seemed apropos for Vegas and, contrary to what most might think, Paris smells quite good), pulled out our darkest sunglasses and hit the strip. “The Kardashians would be proud,” I told BeCuz.
The next day, however, when discussing this theory with MiniMe, she informed us, “Usually wearing dark sunglasses inside is an indication that you are old.” Fortunately, for BeCuz, the bouncers questioned her age and requested to see her ID. She was quite pleased with the inquisition. As she and the bouncer discussed it, she informed him I was younger than her. “What?!?! No way!” was his reply. “Really?” I indignantly questioned.
After asking for an AARP discount, We finally made it into the venue. We positioned ourselves in the prime location – stage left and right near the bar. Once the concert started, As we danced around, I noticed my posh top had channeled it’s inner Janet Jackson. Luckily, like Janet, only a bit of my nip was exposed. Sadly, unlike Janet, Justin Timberlake was not to blame. I quickly fixed the wardrobe malfunction, and told BeCuz, “I danced so hard my top fell down.” “It does have a good sound,” she replied, clearly not hearing what I said. And so began the weekend of mature adults. Not Vegas style/industry standard ‘porn mature.’ Just ‘regular’ mature – old, hearing impaired, shade and A/C craving, and blended (alcoholic) beverage, to name a few examples.