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Teababy

Educator & Aspiring Writer

I am a girly girl; I’m simply complex and passionate about the people and things that I love. I’m an educator, an aunt, and among many other things—a lover of life. I came from California to go to school in Atlanta 2 weeks after my 18th birthday and never looked back. California is my first...

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Vegas Baby!

So my girls and I took a quick trip to Las Vegas last week.

Vegas is one of those places where everyone in California likes to go to “Do it big,” meaning, party like no tomorrow and flaunt their assumed assets. I’ve never really understood the attraction to the brightly lit city full of sin. I mean, I don’t gamble; I don’t smoke; I’m not a heavy drinker; and I definitely am not privy to having sex with random strangers. So, other than the entertainment, food, shopping, and clubs—I could really stay at home. Actually, the various shows are about the only solid thing that I can’t see or do in Atlanta. Soooo, needless to say, unless there’s an event going on, ie boxing match, NBA All-star weekend, or something to that effect, Vegas is not my top pick for a weekend getaway.

Despite the grumblings that we’re in a recession and the cost of gas is draining our livelihood, people are still flocking to the sin city in droves. I happened to go there recently because my girlfriend turned 30 and wanted to ‘Party like a Rock Star’. So, off we went.

While there we did the expected shopping, eating, and lounging; then of course hung out until the sun came up. That seems to be another must do when one goes to Vegas—gotta stay up and out long enough to see the sunrise!

On our last night I actually beat the sun for once, and got back to the hotel with enough time to not only shower, but I actually got to lie down and rest for a good hour and a half before heading to the airport for my 7:20 am departure. Talk about an early night! Thankfully so, I was actually looking more than half-decent behind my over-sized Gucci shades going through the airport. Some people, however, didn’t appear to have made it back to their hotel room at all the night before. There was this one particular unfortunate looking chick who arrived looking something like a harlot. Her eye make-up was smeared, her hair looked like a rats nest (as my mother would say), and she was barefooted. She reeked of alcohol and I don’t want to think about what else. She was truly a pitiful sight to see.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I know we all have taken the dreadful ‘walk of shame’ in our night before party dress. ‘Ole girl, on the other hand, was shameful; prancing through the airport the way she did.

Of course, she happened to end up on my 1 hour flight back to the bay area. Once we finally landed she immediately powered up her cell to announce her arrival and spill all of the sordid details of the night before. Of course we were (at least I was) listening intently for her to answer the question we all wanted to know, “What the HELL happened to you last night?!”

Well, come to find out nothing out of the ordinary happened. She, like countless others, simply had partied too hard, drank too much, blacked out, then found herself safe and sound; dropped off at the airport by her cousin. Tragically there wasn’t enough time to at least wash her face or brush her matted hair before rushing off to the airport. Poor thing, I felt bad because she really did look a hideous mess.

I over heard several conversations of guys and girls on their way to the airport and in the airport, admitting that they had done too much the night before. But these people had at least cleaned up the evidence. You can’t come back from Vegas with incriminating evidence all over your person; it’s against the well-known rule. Everyone knows, “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.” This girl had clearly broken the cardinal code!

And furthermore, I’d rather miss my flight rather than disrespect myself and the code by coming home looking like stir-fried sh**! All I know is my friends, cousin, or whoever, bet’ not eva’! And I mean neva-eva’, eva’ eva’ drop my hot ass off no where, other than my doorstep, lookin’ lost and homely the way she did that morning. There will be guaranteed smoke in the city on THAT day-- and that’s my word. Viva Las Vegas y’all!