Tuesday, December 18, 2007
It's Vegas baby
Has it really been nearly a month since my last post? Oops. Well the company holiday party was this past weekend. Remember when I mentioned they were going to put us up in the Mandalay Bay casino hotel? Well it turned out they even upgraded us to some VIP suites! Check them out! Huge marble bathrooms, plasma TVs, floor-to-ceiling windows, comfortable beds… it was awesome. I think it’s the nicest place I’ve ever stayed at, ever.
Winter seems to be the best time to go to Las Vegas. Most of the times I’ve been there in the past, the heat was so intense we could never walk very far before feeling like we were going to pass out. This time the air was pretty cold, but it was easy to bundle up to go outside. It was nice to finally walk down the street without succumbing heat exhaustion.
I’m not a gambler, at all. I didn’t spend a dime on a single game of chance. (Though my sweety did drop a quarter into a slot machine and tripled her investment, heehee.) I prefer to spend my cash on sure things… like buffets. Ooh the food… By the way, Sundays are the worst day for buffet breakfast, because all the casinos charge double for the food! What a ripoff. They claim it’s “champagne brunch” and justify the extra cost. Bullshit. Who the hell drinks champagne for breakfast? (You lushes keep quiet.) But Monday morning we went for the buffet breakfast at Bellagio. Yuummmy. Money well spent, I think. Better than losing it in a round of blackjack, that’s for sure. Breakfast at the Paris casino buffet is also scrumptious, with fresh breakfast crepes made to order.
Is it funny that the highlight of my trip to Las Vegas was the food and the room? The company party was okay. They went all out and hired a magician who was pretty good, and two supposedly hot musical acts who were so-so. The food was so-so as well. It was very disappointing to see my meat-eating coworkers have their slab of meat accompanied by veggies and fancy mashed potatoes, and all the vegetarians got was grilled veggies sandwiched between medium sized portobello mushrooms, cut into a round mini-burger shape. It couldn’t have been more than three inches across. What, do vegetarians not eat potatoes? Do vegetarians require less food than everyone else? What the hell?
One fellow web designer that I sit next to, whom I shall call “Chatterbox”, was especially irritating. He’s kind of annoying every day already, but he usually has some level of tact. He doesn’t know how to shut up and will waste half an hour blathering about one topic while only repeating one point over and over and over, but if he disagrees with you, he’ll at least be polite about it. I expected that plying him with alcohol would only remove his internal filter and amplify his obnoxiousness. I was right. He must have had about 10 gin and tonics, made fairly strong by a generous bartender near our table. An open bar has that effect on those who like to drink. By the end of the party he asked me like three times, “So what are you doing after the party?” It wasn’t in the sleazy pick-up line kind of way (thank god, eww, that would’ve been awkward), it was more of an inquiry from an overly social idiot who wanted find people to party and drink with. That’s so not my thing. All three times I told him I was just going back to my room because I was tired (we walked for hours up and down Las Vegas Blvd earlier in the day). All three times he would reply, “What?? No no you can’t do that, you’re in Vegas! You gotta drink and party! There’s an open bar for christ sake, live it up! Going to bed early is such a waste.” For the record, I don’t think 11:30 PM is early.
So I put up with his crap all evening, waiting for the party to be over so I could go snuggle up in the posh hotel suite again. People like him think people like me are totally boring, and I accept that. But when those people try to make me feel guilty for being a homebody, that’s when I start entertaining thoughts of planting my fists into their inebriated faces. Or at least telling them off. “Look, Chatterbox, I’m not like you, nor would I ever want to be like you. You’re a loser who needs alcohol in order to feel good about yourself. So fuck off and leave me alone.” I didn’t say any of this, of course. I just nodded and smiled. I still have to work with the guy when we’re all back in the office. There’s no chance of him getting fired for climbing up on stage during one of the band performances. Heh, that was some other guy. He got pulled off stage by the CEO himself. Talk about losing all dignity.
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Categories: • Sometimes I have a life