Yes, Yes. I realize it's been quite a while since I've blogged. Can we say busy? (Now I have the Veggie Tales song running through my head - nice.)
So, just got back from Vegas, and I will now regale you with stories:
Elevator Story 1: Group of probably 40-something guys pile into the elevator. A and I are, at this point, in full laugh-at-stupid-people mode, and sort of squashed in the back corner so as not to accidentely touch said drunkards. The last guy gets on the elevator as he is in the story-telling mode. AND, he does not stop telling his story even though he sees us - two much classier and unknown-to-him women. The story goes something like this:
"So, we're in LA and we meet some guy and we're thinking it would be funny to mess with him, so we make him think we're all pounding down vodka when we're really just drinking water, and getting him totally wasted on tequila. Then we all get in the limo and then we dress the guy in a diaper and throw him out at LAX and leave him."
A and I glanced at each other and I had to then look at the floor as the same thought of, "Wow, classy", pops into our heads. Then he proceeds to say us, LOUDLY, as if we are deaf, "I bet you have friends like us! HAHA!" Classy AND witty.
Um, ya.
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Elevator Story 2: A and I are getting onto an (astonishingly already open) elevator, and a much older guy is already on there and has pushed the button to floor 34. (Yes, important.) He was dressed very touristy - khaki shorts, ugly shirt, HUGE backpack, beer, terrible feet in flipflops. Asks what floor so he can be nice and push the button. We are on 36. He has already pushed 34. Do the math, please, then come back. Got it? After several seconds of him not being able to find the button, and several seconds after we realize he's 'slightly' inebriated, I reach over and push it and say, very nicely (ha), "I've got it."
Now, of course, we are using all will-power we can possibly muster to not burst into laughter. So, as we had just bought some gifts for people, I yank open my bag and practically stick my face in it and declare, loudly, "Do you think so-and-so will like this?" A answers, just as loud, "Yes, it's really cute." After what seems like an eternity, the elevator finally reaches floor 34 and the guy gets off. Oh, but we're not done.
THEN, he proceeds to walk in about 2.5 circles as he tries to figure out which way to go. The best part is that going right would have ran him into a wall. I guess he really had to weigh the options, "Hmm, let's see. Walk down the hall, or run directly into a very solid wall. Man, this is hard." I don't know, maybe the mirror hanging on the wall confused him. Of course, the elevator doors stay open for WAY too long, and just as we could no longer contain ourselves and started laughing hysterically, the doors shut. We both barely made it to the bathroom after that.
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REALLY, REALLY Inebriated Person Story: I was really lucky to get to go to dinner with some wonderful friends that I hadn't seen in ages. As we stood outside waiting for our table, it was like the whole sidewalk stopped. Before I continue, please note that it is only about 7:15 and still very light outside.
Ok, so there is a commotion and out comes four people from somewhere. One of them, even with the help of her THREE friends, can not walk. Can not hardly be dragged down the sidewalk. We commented that, wow, the moon isn't even out yet. Then, as we all watched and snickered, J commented that, nope, the moons rising now. Yes, uber-drunk chick was having some wardrobe malfunctions. She sort of fixed her shirt and pants, they dragged her a little farther, she fell, they hauled her up, and so on. I think every person on the strip hoped she would just pass out. I'm sorry, but if you get that bad that early, you sort of deserve some laughter going your way. Immediately following is
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REALLY Inebriated People Story 2: Still standing outside waiting. PF Chang's in Planet Hollywood is REALLY busy, just in case you need to know. So, like I said, still waiting. And the door opens and two older but trying to be sort-of-young-still ladies come roaring out of the restaurant. Maybe one ran into the door or something, but we all just glanced and chuckled, and somehow, something we did (not) do prompted them to trip over and start talking, LOUDLY, to us. I looked over at M and she was making the most wonderful "I'm trying not to laugh" face, so I had to just, once again, put my head down. One of the ladies got right in between A and I and bathed A's arm in spittle. (I carry sanitizing wipes. See how handy they are?) We must have been rousing conversationalist because they talked for several minutes. The only thing is, our side of the conversation consisted of, well, nothing. Just a few eyebrow-raised "nods."
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There you have it. I hope you enjoyed! :)
