Dear Jan, New Rule: NO MORE BLOW

This is my girl Emma.



Emma and I have been tight since she was in high school, and last weekend was her 25th birthday which, yes, made me feel incredibly old. But I'm feeling old lately anyway. For Emma's 25th birthday, and and her friends came to Vegas, and if you want to see all of the pictures, just click here. It was a fun night. There was some crazy running around, and finally we ended up in Rum Jungle (don't ask).

Emma made friends with a grandpa who was tearing up the dance floor.



Emma put on a little show.



Toni & Steph were ... classy.



And then there was Jan.

Let's not, to begin with, talk about how we know Jan. It's embarassing. But here's how the story goes. So, Emma and I head out of the club to smoke. Rum Jungle is located in such a way that it's also right next to the doors that lead out of the Mandalay Bay, so you can see the taxi area. We look out of the doors, and there is Jan, seemingly drunk beyond all human control, to the point where security has been called and are trying to manage him in.

Emma and I sigh.

Emma and I head outside.

Emma and I sit down on a bench and Emma hollers, "Jan, over here."

Jan stumbles over to us and immediately plants his six foot four Nordic (he's Swedish, hence the name) frame on my lap. I'm like, "Excellent. Comfortable. "

Security comes over to ask Emma and I if we want them to remove Jan. Emma's like "No, we're straight." Emma, of course, does not have a six foot four Swedish dude on her lap.

And then Emma turns to say something to Jan, and then she immediately starts tugging on my arm until I turn to her, and then she says:

"LOOK HOW MUCH POWDER IS UP HIS NOSE!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Dude, not just up his nose, really all over his face. It must have been the line to end all lines. It's like it's Halloween and he's going as a druggie ghost.

Then, valet pulls up with Jan's car. WTF? Who gives somebody who's so intoxicated that you had to call security on them a car to drive, even in Vegas? Emma is not having this. "Oh HELL no," she tells valet, "You straight can't give him a CAR. What are you THINKING? You put him in a cab."

Like, the 25-year-old party girl should not have to be telling this to the Mandalay Bay valets, seriously.

So they get him a cab. Jan offers me money for sex, because that's what he does. I consider it for a moment because there are these hot Jimmy Choos I want, but there was no way that wasn't going to be a mess (you can decide for yourself how much of that last train of thought was true). I kiss Jan on the cheek to say goodbye and it's like licking a table that people just did blow off of for an entire night. Emma walks over the cab.

"I'm sorry about your passenger. He stays at the MGM. I'm really sorry about your passenger."

And the look that the cab driver gives her is so "Oh Jesus. Another? I wish I were a cab driver anywhere except Vegas."

Except that given how Jan was throwing money around (literally), that cab driver probably made out.

And Emma and I? We go back inside to get our dance on. Because, sadly, Jan is a normalcy in the Rum Jungle.