I love Sin City.
The bright glow of the neon...
Melodic ringing of the slot machines...
Screams of ecstacy from the crap tables...
The devil-may-care attitude that overtakes you the minute you pass Blue Diamond Road on the I-15!
Yes, dear ol’ Kat rounded up a couple of her favorite Kittens and hit Las Vegas this past weekend.
The secret to a good night out in Vegas for a single gal– is all in what you pack. My choice this trip: my favorite black boots. They look a little like English riding boots. Black, shiny leather and a 3 inch heel. For the past few weeks they became known as my "unlucky" boots, because every time I wore them to work a wildfire broke out somewhere! But after this trip they’re officially known as the "Get Lucky" boots!
Friday night.
Bellagio.
My girlfriends and I strut into the casino like we own the place. A few Cape Cods and Trader Vic’s Slings do wonders for a person’s attitude in Las Vegas! The boots, short skirt, big hair and eyelashes have me feeling like Ann-Margret.
The first spot fire breaks out near the VIP lounge.
"Hey Ladies! Hey! Hey! Ladies!"
We turn and notice a good looking guy sitting in the lounge surrounded by a velvet rope and bottle of Champagne. At that moment Ann-Margret left the building!
"Is he yelling at us?" I ask as we keep walking away.
"I think so," my friends say. "Go talk to him!"
Oh no, no, no... not yet. Kat needs one more Cape Cod to lure back her Ann-Margret confidence!
Our gal group splits up to do a little gambling. While sitting at the Pai Gow table I realize how silly I was being. THIS IS VEGAS! I’m not that shy, polite, proper girl from the I.E.! I’m Ann-Margret in her lucky black boots!! Darn it!!!
So I slink back over to his table and, summoning my best Ann-Margret impersonation, I purr to him: "Why were you yelling at my friends and I like that? We don’t know you."
JACKPOT!
It worked. We spent the next hour sipping Champers with the man and his friends.
Next stop: THE BANK nightclub.
Our boots, heels, and short skirts shimmy up the escalator and down onto the dance floor. One of my friends immediately gets pulled away to dance with a very cute and very young guy. Suddenly one of us has gone from Sex Kitten to Cougar! But who cares??? It’s VEGAS Baby!!!
Another friend and I head for the bar. No more Cape Cods. No more Champagne. It’s nearly 2am and we’re feeling it. We need water!!!
It’s on our way to the bar that we meet the Canadians.
One of the guys in the group grabbed us as we walked by and said: "Hello, Eh!"
I nicknamed him "Guns" because I have never seen arms that big and muscular on any man! "Guns" later whispered something in my ear that would normally get a man slapped. But my boots must have been giving out because all I felt was weak in the knees!
All I have to say is... Oh, Canada!!!