Much to the delight of our bank accounts, Hotass and I returned from Vegas on Sunday with a little cash still in our pockets, and absolutely exhausted.My feet and legs were killing me because we're too cheap for cabs. Actually, our one cab ride/comedy show was definitely worth the 16 bucks. The cabbies in Vegas get $50 from the strip clubs for every person they bring to their door, and the ride is free to patrons. So after dark, every free driver is trying to seduce horny men to go to the tittie bars.
Ours was a little disappointed that we didn't need a ride to the strip club, but like he said, he picked us up at The Buffalo, and he shouldn't be surprised. But at least he thought he was a freakin' comedian.
"What do you call a Mexican woman with no legs? Cunts-Way-Low. My girlfriend is Mexican and she don't like that one much. But that's okay. She sure can clean a mean kitchen. How come there were only 4,000 Mexicans at the Alamo? Because they only had two trucks."
Too bad we waited til the last night we were there to take a cab. My feet might not be cursing me now.
We walked almost everywhere we went. Even if it was in our hotel, it almost always seemed to be on the other side.
We saw Celine's show. It wasn't a show I would have picked on my own. I like her music as long as I don't have to watch her perform. The overacting gets on my reserve nerve. But truly, the show was incredible. There was enough singing, dancing and impressive staging to make me forget about the overacting. The performance of "Seduces Me" surrounding by writhing shirtless men was one of the most erotic things I've witnessed in some while. And she almost had me in the palm of her hand when she began "What a Wonderful World." Tears almost welled up in my eyes. But then she started flashing pictures of the audience on the video screen. And quite frankly, I just didn't see anything wonderful about them.
After Celine, we treated ourselves to dinner at Bobby Flay's Mesa Grill. I had the grilled lamb porterhouse with a sweet potato tamale. It was delicious, even if the meat was still on the bone. And you know how I feel about that.
After the show, Hotass and I stumbled into The Pussycat Dolls Lounge. Again, not something I would have chosen, but someone passed free passes into Hotass' hand. And this place was just cute. Yeah, leave it to a gay man to call a burlesque show, "cute." But Hotass and I were the only ones there to fully appreciate a spinning champage glass on a center stage that was just the right size for a Pussycat Doll to flail in, and two ceiling swings that featured pink feather boas suspending girls in sexy black-and-silver bustiers. Don'tcha wish your girlfriend was cute like me?
After one drink and one quick show, we hit the streets again, and walked 42 blocks to Krave for $10 liquor bust. Not beer bust, but liquor bust. $10 all-you-can-drink buffet. Now there's a concept Memphis could really latch on to. And you should have heard the sigh of relief when we spotted half-naked go-go boys. Las Vegas had been way too heterocentric, and we were starting to suffer from gay man's cabin fever.
The next night, we saw Cirque du Soleil's Mystere which was definitely breath-taking, especially the soft-core man-on-man balancing act. And like Celine, Mystere had me right up until the end. [Attention: spoiler ahead] The baby in footie pajamas that we had been following higher and higher through level after level of acrobats, trapeze artists, and flying hot boys, in the grand finale arrives on stage riding a giant, psychedelic snail with giant, hypnotic bubble eyes. WTF? A snail? I expected something more dramatic, sexier. Especially after that particular LSD trip.
Again as we're walking through the casino, HotAss picks up another free VIP pass, this time to Tangerine. Just in time for a cocktail. And also just in time for the Sirens of the TI show. As soon as we finished our gin & tonics, and as soon as the lusty pirate made off with the sexy siren queen, we bolted...
To be continued...
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