THE VEGAS TRIP

Back when I worked at the jazz supper club, I always got calls from all kinds of places. One time I got a call from a woman who was on a plane coming from Las Vegas. At the time, I've been wondering about places to travel. So I asked her about it while I took her reservation.

"Yeah, it was great," she said. "Why? You never been?"

And her reaction to the fact that I HADN'T been to Vegas (which is an hour by plane from San Diego) was priceless.

"What?! You've never been to Vegas? And how old are you? 29? You should go. You should go before you turn 30."

I grinned at her response. "I just might do that."

She scolded like she was my mother. "You should go. No might."

And that...has always stuck with me.

A year later...

All I ever did was work. Frenchman's leaving...and the sting of his betrayal had crippled me to the point I really did not want to go out, distrusting of all San Diegans. And I could never seem to go where I wanted to go anyway. What was the point of it all?

It became too much. And what I wanted and needed was a vacation.

So one day, I put in a request form for a week off. My destination? Las Vegas.

And I got it.

Of course, I played the seniority card to get it.

STARTS

The first thing that I saw? It was a Wheel of Fortune slot machine. Seriously...there I was in Vegas and there wa a slot machine in the airport. It was surreal.

Then I took a 30 dollar taxi drive to my hotel.

***

It was not lost on me. After years of being with Kos, I had actually grown used to five star hotels. And my hotel...was so not five star.

Still...it was roomy enough. The bathtub could have been fancier. I was happy to have listened to the reviews on Orbitz and gotten my room on the west side.

I pulled open the blinds. Before me stood the city. And also there was the Stratosphere.

I smiled. I at least had a view. That was good enough.

***

Glenn advised me to bring along my laptop. Internet connection at my hotel was 11.99 for 24 hours...with a fifty dollar deposit. At first, I becked at that. Once in my room, I surfer around...to see it was only that 11.99. Lol.

Like most writers, I loved being connected to the internet. you could keep up with the writer market. And you could also keep up with your friends.

And that was hot I got my response to where I stood with Frenchman.

I knew he would be online. It was his birthday. Naturally, he would be online to see who wished him good will. And that was why he had a nice little question waiting for him.

I believed that Frenchman had been online in the two months since he left San Diego. I believed he was emailing constantly...otherwise why buy a laptop? However, I had gotten no replies to my emails. But...there was new people popping up on his Facebook from here and where he was. So I straight out asked if I had to be a girl, one of the queeny Mexicans he chose to hang around with....and that he was totally willing to defend..., or Dork Boi...who he 'hanged' out with his last night here. And by 'hanged' I did not mean hang out.

And just like that...I was rejected from any of his potential friends list. In essence, Frenchman and I were not friends anymore. Maybe it was two months coming, but I never did go for passive aggressive crap. If someone wanted to say something, I preferred they did not beat around the bush. Still, it was sad that he could put so many people ahead of me and not have the balls to be direct.

There was a word for that. Actually there was two. One was coward. The other was pussy.

So naturally...now that I had confirmation on his asshole--ness, I had to respond.

For me, that was at the Starbucks that was a few blocks from my hotel. it was my vacation. I refused to let anything or anyone mess with my mood. Especially someone who decided to shit over almost two years of friendship because of his insecurities and obvious sexuality.

So I did what I had to do so many times in my life. With Matt. Kos...waaaay too many times. Rob. Brazil. Now it was Frenchman's turn.

What did I mean? My brutally honest (because I don't have anything to lose) email/letter a la Dear John. People walked away from me. But I usually let them know how they did me wrong. So everything that was in my column THE BOX (May 2009) as well as my various journal entries was shot across his lying face.

Once sent, I continued about my business. After all, it was my vacation. I had a whole city to see. No time for people who were going to waste my time.

WEIRD CITY

"Wow."

The setting? Fashion Show Mall. At the moment, I watched...ironically...a fashion. The clothes were Michael Kors. The models were excellent. And the crowd was in awe at the end when the stage actually submerged underground. It was definitely something I was not used to. And they have fashion shows every hour.

But that was Las Vegas for you. Everything...and everyone was in excess.

Case in point...

New York. Paris. Venice. All were reconstructed in Vegas. They also had something else in common: they wall had malls and casinos. I mean...wow. Some had actors in medieval clothes. Some had animated statues. Most had a club of some kind.

"Hey. Do you have a minute?"

I looked to my right. The men in suits were nothing new. I saw them as regularly as the short Mexicans who were promoting hookers on the Strip. Usually, the men in suits were guys interested in selling half-price tickets. This guy...Jay...was no different.

"What? Are you alone?" Jay continued, showing me some of the couple packages he had.

"Yep," I said, dead-pan. "Just me."

"What? Wow. That takes balls."

Yes. It did. But I refused to spend my birthday in San Diego aka Place of Pain. And I needed a vacation.

Jay went back to his stand. He pulled out a sheet of paper. I looked at it, frowning. It was his phone number.

"If you have any questions," Jay said, "just call me. I'm from Florida so this building messes with the signal. But it works after midnight."

"Uh...okay. Thanks."

I took the sheet of paper. My mind was on boat rides in the Venice casino. As I headed down the way, I also thought about the fact that someone who gives someone their number...is interested in you.

Hm. Weird.

Or maybe it was the fact I was just not used to guys being interested in me even thought I was attractive. And here was a guy doing that. Again...weird.

POKERFACE

"Have you hit the casino off?"

That was Glen's usual question when I called him.

"No," I usually replied. "Not yet."

"What?!" Glenn usually shrieked, like I've confessed to killing his mother. "What are you waiting for?"

He did have a point. It was Vegas!! Why was I not gambling?

Maybe it was because I was not into gambling. While it was my mother and father's thing, I never had a love for it. The only time I had gambled...I lost twenty dollars.

Fast forward...

"How much did you get?" Glenn asked.

"30 dollars," I said as I headed down the Strip.

"And you stopped?!" Glenn shrieked.

I grinned. It felt great to win money. But it was even better to be able to simple walk away.

In Las Vegas, it was becoming apparent that a person had to be sure they had one thing: a damn good pokerface.

Studio 54. It was the legendary club in New York. It was also a club n Las Vegas, part of the MGM Grand Building. I wasn't even sure if I would be let in...black silk buttoned-down shirt and dark jeans.

The velvet rope was moved aside. And inside..was a crowd of straight people grooving to the music. That wasn't true, the gays were up in the VIP section.

Still, it became obvious that people played hard here when the DJ busted out with some Basement Jaxx. I was on the floor doing my thing, thinking of my friend Shaun whom a big fan. And so was this guy with some dark-haired girl. From the looks of them they were great dancers...maybe ravers.

I got into my Basement Jaxx. Then I got bumped. I turned the guy and the girl. Maybe they weren't ravers. Because an excellent dancer knew how not to bump, bending your body to the negative space among close dancers. When they kept bumping me, I looked at them again.

Then the new Black-Eyed Peas came on. My eyes narrowed on the guy and girl, my pokerface coming on.

Those two...were toasted.

MISADVENTURES

All-nighters. Gambling. Liquor. All that was missing was...

I closed the door to my hotel room. I headed for my elevator. I felt nervous. I was going with Jay to Krave, the only gay club that was right off the Strip. Glenn and James were sure I would be getting some. Me? Not so much.

The sound of German got me out of my thoughts. I looked up. A group of Germans stumbled pat me. One of them set his eyes on me. Then he tore off his buttoned down shirt in front of me. I walked past, ignoring the chatter.

Then they switched to English while I waited for the elevator. There appeared to be a debate going on. The debated? Whether they wanted me to join with them.

The elevator opened. I got in. I pushed the button hurriedly.

I just needed one penis...not five.

***

My mind was distracted. I had been to Krave one of my first nights in Vegas. I was always great at researching the gay clubs in the cities I visited and what I saw was a small post-modern bar with friendly people, making me think of the Nashville gays.

The part of Krave I saw...was different. I saw a longer bar. I could make out a stage...and a large dance floor. There were blocks for all the go-go dancers who were fine as hell.

"Wow," escaped my lips.

"Great, huh?" Jay asked.

I looked at him. "This was not the part I saw a few nights ago."

It really wasn't. It...was packed. And the guys looked fun. The music was kicking and so were the dancers.

Then...the winners of this year's MTV Dance Crew performed on stage. I was just blown away. I always was used to drag queens performing. This was different cool. I had my vodka tunic in hand, cheering.

Naturally, later on...I danced. And I was given enough to dance the way I like. There were a few haters, but I ignored it. I was happy with Jay.

Later on...it got much happier.

hint, hint.

***

It was my birthday. Jay had called earlier. He had a friend Derrick in town. He wanted us to meet.

And meet we did. Jay had been up for hours...for obvious reasons...he left us alone early. So we wandered about the Strip my last night, drinking and joking.

"There he goes again," I announced.

By he, I meant the cute stocky Latino that had cruising me for the last 30 minutes. Derrick had his eye on a bubble-butted boy that was at the slot machine, eyeing every guy that passed him by.

One thing I noticed in a city as crazy as Vegas, I noticed that in the early hours...or 2sm to 3am...most guys straight or not...were looking to bust a nut. My first night in Vegas I saw first hand by the drunken men acting with an aggressive mob mentality on the single drunk girls. Glenn told me he had been a part of a threeway between two straights...one of whom was a bridegroom. And now here I was with Derrick, watching straight men looking at us with a bit of lust in their eyes.

What a way to end my trip.

BACK

My eyes took in the sights. The taxi was on its way to the airport. My mind felt bittersweet. I had made a fun friend in Jay. I had relaxed. best of all, my taxi ride was 12 dollars. Yes, he was tipped well.

Now it was time to go back. Time to go back to Hotel S and Postal Place. Time to go back to my sad memories of Frenchman. Time to get back to stupid people and bitchy queens.

After taking a well needed vacation, I hoped that I was up to it.

Diego


 

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