"Do You Have Anything ... Thinner?"

Firstly, do you know what I love about this blog right now? The complete contrast between good and evil. "Hey, I hiked God's mountain, but I did it while swearing up a storm." "Hey! I went to see the innocence of a newborn, but first I had a really dirty one-night-stand."

Secondly, I would love to tell EVERY portion of Friday night, but I am going to have to limit it to just three snippets because the rest would be TMI even by my standards and will be reserved only for an email to my closest friends. I will tell you that Friday night resulted in my sending this text to Shim Shimmy on Saturday morning:

"Nothing says taking it to a new low like getting off a plane to meet a newborn for the first time while wearing a shirt you had to steal from your Vegas one-night-stand because you couldn't find your clothes by the light of your cell phone in the morning."

Thirdly, if you read this and think that I have behaved badly, well, a)you clearly don't know me and b)just take faith in the fact that God has punished me. I was such a wreck getting from one night stand to the airport on Saturday AM that I forgot to turn my car lights off. My battery died, and jumping the battery blew out the fuse for my power steering, resulting in hundreds of dollars of car repair. See? Sex really is the devil's work and God will always remind you.

That said, here is the Reader's Digest version of Friday night, in three short chapters.

Chapter One: You Never Know Who the "Nice" Boy Is
So, my Asian Party Posse was in town on Friday night. Yeah. This is how we roll in Blush at the Wynn. And also, you can see all of the pictures here.




So, there's some set up here. We walk in, and there's a table full of guys with bottle service, and I immediately think that the one is hot. Like, so hot. Shim Shimmy disagrees and wants to give him a haircut. I like it messy, though. But I am not feeling the game. I'm really not. I think I just hadn't been out in too long. Because by today, having been back in the game, I am, for sure, feeling the game. But whatever. Because I am not feeling the game at that time, I avoid the boy I think is so hot and hang out with my girlies and also this boy we meet upon entering the club named ... Slick.

Slick seems like everything a girl should want. I cannot deny that he was freaking adorably attractive. He's in town for a debate tournament, so he's smart and just a little bit dorky. He installs high end home theaters. He's from LA, which is almost like being local! He can carry on a funny conversation. AND I COULD NOT CARE LESS. I really couldn't feel it. And I think it was because he seemed too nice.

Wanna know what we learned later?

Slick had done porn in Korea.

Wanna know what happened as soon as I found that out?

I was a lot more interested.

However, it was too late by that point, because cute and messy boy had made his move and I was defenseless. Well, that's not true. I was so not feeling the game that I actually physically tried to hide behind Shim Shimmy when we saw him get up to make his move. Right? I know. Something's been off with me since that whole "Nice to have met you" thing in Madrid. But don't you worry! I think we righted the ship.

Anyway, my point is, that's screwed up, right? That quasi-perfect boy couldn't hold my attention until I found out he'd done Asian porn? I HAVE TO GET OUT OF VEGAS.

Chapter Two: Do You Have Anything Thinner?
If you have an IQ above 2, then you have figured out by now that at the end of the evening, or the beginning of the morning (either works), I decided to go back to the Hard Rock with this boy to do inappropriate things. On our way to the room, we do what romantic couples in Vegas have been doing for decades. We stop at the apothecary in the Hard Rock lobby to buy Gatorade and condoms.

You really have to feel something for the girl who works at the apothecary in the Hard Rock. She probably sells a hundred combo packs of Gatorade and condoms a night to drunken, horny fools wondering through there who later may or may not remember their room number. And in that process, there are probably two questions that she has been asked so many times that the mere sound of them will want to make her spontaneously combust in anger. The first, of course, would be "Ha, ha, do you have anything bigger?" Fortunately, we were not the people who asked that question, because based on her response to the question we did ask, she may just have come over the counter at us with a baseball bat if we'd asked "Ha, ha, do you have anything bigger?"

What we did ask, though, was what I am sure the second most popular question that gets laid on her when she hands over a pack of condoms is. "Do you have anything thinner?" Yes. Yes he did ask that. And before I could even roll my eyes, the apothecary girl looks at me. And her look speaks volumes, and those volumes read "I hate men and their infinite stupidity."

And then she looks at him. And I fear for him, literally. And she picks the condoms back up off the counter, and the she slams them back down in front of him again, and she says:

"Listen, I sell a lot of these and I know what I'm talking about. YOU WILL NOT FIND ANYTHING THINNER THAN THIS."

Then, literally, she slams them down AGAIN (for emphasis, I suppose), and rings up our Gatorade and condoms. We just stood there, staring. At her, at each other, at the condoms on the counter. It was like she had told us how it was, and now we understood. And again, I am just thankful that he didn't ask if she had anything bigger, because, you know, what would THAT scene have looked like?

Chapter Three: This is My Life Lesson to You - How to Avoid the Walk of Shame
Okay, listen, there is no real way to avoid the walk of shame. There are going to be times in your life when you straight have to roll out of a casino at 5:00am to get to the airport and you're going to be wearing some slutty heels, some tiny black party shorts, a shirt that was obviously stolen from the boy you hooked up with because you couldn't find your own clothes in the morning and later realized that that was probably because he was sleeping on top of them and a big old mascara stain underneath your right eye.

Or, maybe you'll never have to do that, but I'd argue that you may be missing out if you don't experience that at least once. Sure, you don't have to have done it so many times that you have a life lesson to share on it, like I do, but once is good.

Anyway, in that situation, you cannot avoid the walk of shame out of the casino, but you can MAKE IT YOUR OWN. Don't avoid the eye contact of the people playing blackjack at 5am as you walk out. You know who those people are? The people who didn't get laid the night before. You have WON in this circumstance, and don't let them make you feel any differently just because they're down $500 and you may or may not have an std and be missing your panties. You win here. It's not even a debate. Potential STD and missing panties trumps lost gambling cash and drunken red-eye any time.

Then, you own it as you walk out to the taxi line. I mean, maybe you're lucky and you have a vehicle with you, but chances are, you're going to have to face the taxi line attendant in the bright light of morning. In the shirt that is obviously not the shirt you wore out with your sexy heels and tiny black party shorts the night before. You know what you do in that situation? You look the taxi line attendant dead in the face and say, "This is a nice shirt, isn't it?" He'll say some variation of yes, and then you say, "Yeah. New rule. If you're too drunk and tired to get up and help me find my clothes in the morning, then I take yours." And suddenly, with that one sentence, you will go from being just another tramped out girl trying to get out of sight before her one night stand wakes up to THE COOLEST GIRL EVER TRYING TO GET OUT OF SIGHT BEFORE HER ONE NIGHT STAND WAKES UP.

That's my lesson. Take it. Use it. I promise you it is better than trying to hide behind bangs of shame on your way out in the morning. Own it, ladies, own it.

Tomorrow we'll talk about cuteness and babies!