Vegas, baby!

Poor, Sara. She has to spend nearly a full week at a high-end Las Vegas resort with all expenses paid by Daimler Chrysler. When she gets back to Orange County, the unlucky soul has to trade in her Jeep Commander for a brand new Dodge Charger STR8...with a 6.1 liter V8 Hemi with 425 horsepower and 420 pounds of torque. Drivers beware!

But anyway, Vegas has been an experience. I have a few days before the training conference begins to myself. Day I, I proceeded directly to the pool after getting to the resort. I then order lunch and drinks, so I could really enjoy the sun! But oh my god, it was fucking hot as hell! I was outside for maybe two minutes before I started sweating profusely and was forced to seek relief in the Waterfall Oasis section of the spa. Day II was similar experience.

My streak of attracting all the crazies within a 50 mile radius is null and void in Sin City and has been expanded to include the entire Clark County of Nevada. I swear, no matter where I was (the plane, the airport, the resort, the casino, the pool...) every strange male ages 15 to 150 had to come and have some form of contact with me. The worst was some dude by the pool. I was laying in a lounge chair reading by the cabana DaimlerChrysler rented for the day. This older man with long hair and a bad body decided he just HAD to come over and say hello. I was nice and polite, but thought I had made it clear that I was not interested by not putting my book down (Bridget Jones' Diary) and continuing to read. Buddy did not get the hint and proceeded to ask me to accompany him to the casino that night! (He was a nice Southern boy and actually used the word accompany.) I flatly declined and said I was there for business.

I will say, the highlight was being IDed by a cocktail waitress! It is nice to know my 24 years aren't showing yet.