Sunday in Vegas

I ended up getting in LATE from Las Vegas on Tuesday night, and never finished my blogging. Last night I went out to dinner with peeps and also didn’t finish. Here, I’m finishing it!

The New York, NY Hotel & Casino is amazing. Britney was kind enough to take us up to the hotel and drop us off after Joanie left, so we checked in and decided to explore. It being the day before St. Patrick’s Day, a bunch of bars were having big SPD events. We went into the first bar with a big green sign, thinking it was the infamous Nine Fine Irishmen that we’d heard about, and eventually realized we were in the wrong place… This was actually a dueling piano bar, which was AWESOME, but way too loud. I noticed Sal was txting people more than usual, and he noticed me noticing, so he explained: he had a New Year’s Resolution to reach out to people when he thought of them, whether it was a txt msg, or a phone call, or an email… Just so long as he did a better job of telling people he was thinking of them.

Shit. This is just the sort of ritual my OCD tendancies seize upon. My apologies in advance to everyone I flood with txt msgs for awhile.

We give up on the overly-loud dueling piano bar, and strike out in search of the actual Irish pub we’d been searching for. We sit at the bar upstairs and start a round of beer — yes, beer — and before long Sal has to go to the bathroom. The minute he’s gone, some drunk guy stumbles up and sits in his seat… I explain that someone is sitting there, and he looks down at his feet and mumbles that he’s sorry. It seems like he’s about to cry, so I tell him he’s welcome to hang out ’til my friend gets back. In retrospect, probably not a great idea! This is a guy who tells us that he wants to get a helmet tattoo on the head of his dick (punch-line: if a bitch ever asks if he’s got protection, the answer is YES)


We escape him after a half-hour or so, and decide to go do one of my favorite things on vacation: NAP. People give me shit about it, but hey, vacations are about relaxing and doing what makes you happy, right? Naps make me happy. Don’t judge.

We’d decided to get a nice dinner somewhere, since Sal and I almost never enjoy a nice meal together without having all of our friends around. (The one other time I can think of, when we were at VNYL in New York, we spent the whole time txting our friends in NYC about getting together that night. We called it a preview of what we’d be like if we lived in the same city and were a couple) There’s a nice Italian restaurant inside the NY,NY so we got in line there. After waiting a few minutes, the hostess came down the line and asked if we wanted to wait for a table, or be seated at the bar right now. Didn’t have to tell us twice; we were HONGRY.

It turned out, though, that the bar was more like a sushi bar than a liquor bar. It was right in front of the kitchen, so we got to watch the food get prepared right in front of us. The food was great, and the chefs were all Mexican rather than Italian. It was very loud, and crowded, and hectic in there — it had a very NYC feel to it, the sort of place we’d be eating in if we were “home” in Manhattan.

After dinner, it was time for one of the planned highlights of the vacation: Zumanity, the “sensual” side of Cirque du Soleil. We’d added it on to the agenda after we got tickets for O, and later discovered both of us secretly wanted to see that more than O, but thought the other wasn’t interested. Poor communication is a bitch, especially when two people are each determined to do what the other wants.

It was, to be blunt, a disappointment.

First, we’d paid extra for “love couches” right up front next to the stage. What the seating map doesn’t tell you, though, is that there are 3-4 rows of chairs between the couches and the stage, so you’re not really up in front at all. Beyond that, it was too often SEXUAL and not often SENSUAL. Saying “fuck, fuck, fuck, cock, fuck, tits” throughout the show doesn’t make it a sensual show, it just makes it crude. And some ditzy blonde showing her tits while giggling doesn’t make the performance any more engaging. Now granted, these were scenes in which two performers in particular seemed to dominate the show — sort of like the clownish figures in other Cirque du Soleil shows. There were, of course, other parts that were much better.

In fact, the singers and the orchestra were probably the best part of the entire show. Other pieces I really enjoyed were the woman at the beginning in the transparent bathtub, who did an amazing routine in and out of the tub. There was a boy dressed only in webbed fishnets who had a great routine. A couple of other segments were beautifully done… It’s just a shame that the cheesy “sexual” parts were so awful. All in all it was good, just a bit disappointing because it wasn’t what we expected.

In short, Sunday was a great experience — starting off with great friends, taking a nap in a gorgeous hotel room, and enjoying some food, drink, and theatre. Who could ask for anything more?

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