What the what? world

First full day in Vegas.

After a very disappointing breakfast (‘complimentary continental’ - old banana bread and a few stale danishes), we head out to ‘the strip’. We decide to catch a local bus - quick, easy, cheap. We have a few reservations following our experiences in San Francisco (see angry bus driver in post #02) but when we get on the bus, are pleasantly surprised by our friendly reception.



The bus ride is quick and as we jump off we are again looking like country bumpkins coming to the city for the first time - eyes wide, mouths hanging open. We have arrived in crazy town.

Lots of people told us about Vegas, but it is really hard to fathom what a crazy world they have created in the desert until you see it for yourself.

Everything is big. Everything is over the top. Lights are flashing everywhere. Hawkers are pushing deals for all sorts of activities from clubs to casinos to boobie bars, and the printed pamphlets leave nothing to the imagination. “You want a hooker? Here is a picture of exactly what she looks like - all over ... and under” - gross.

Anything seems to go in Vegas. People are stumbling around drunk at 11am with giant plastic yard glasses strapped over their shoulders - margarita refills are cheap and everywhere - some of the plastic yard glasses are shaped like the Eiffel tower, some like blenders, we even see one guy drinking out of a full sized guitar. We see three young people driving around in old people scooters - too lazy to walk, too lazy to even sit upright, they are basically laying down and pushing a button to move along the strip.

We walk and walk and walk. The strip is massive. It is hard to measure distance with your eyes because everything is so much larger than usual. Everything is way out of proportion.

Our first tourist stop is Madam Tussand’s wax museum. It is so much fun! I finally meet Gwen Stephanie, hang out with Madonna, dance with Beyonce. I perform with the Rat Pack, Judy Gardland and Shirly Maclain. Marty gives golfing advice to Tiger Woods and is worshipped in a throne by Snoop Dog. I hang with my girl Marilyn Monroe and stare dreamily at President Kennedy. Marty gets to walk on the moon! What a fun exhibit.

We also go through the special house of horrors. In a group of five, we stand in a line, place our hands on each others shoulders and are told to always keep moving and to not touch anything or anyone inside. There is a couple in front of us, I am holding on to Marty and there is a man standing behind me with his hands on my shoulders. We start walking. Within seconds a zombie jumps out and starts chasing us! We all scream. I go to my default and start giggling insanely. The guy behind me is screaming for God and his grip on my shoulders in getting harder. We keep walking - zombie after zombie jumps out. We all scream. I start jumping up and down, half screaming, half giggling, hysterically now. We finally make it out. My shoulders are a bit sore because of the gorilla grip the guy behind me had. All five of us look at each other and start laughing. It was fun to share that with strangers. We all thank each other and go our separate ways.



After the super star/scare fest, we head to a mall - a massive mall, of course. We get lunch, a coffee and watch in confusion a man sitting at the oxygen bar, getting his fix. Surely just breathing is a fix? But no, apparently ‘flavoured’ oxygen is better. We secretly watch as he sucks down his blueberry oxygen with a look on his face like it has been too long since his last hit.

We then start to have a look at different casinos so Marty can get the lay of the land. We plan to come back to the strip tonight so he can have a go at black jack. The only problem is there are too many choices. Which casino is the right one for him?

After an exhausting day we catch the bus back to the hotel. After a bit of break, we get ready to hit the strip again.

Marty is excited and nervous to try out his new black jack strategy. He has been practicing on his iPhone for the last two weeks and feels confident. He puts on his outfit for the evening. He wants to be taken seriously at the table, so he wears suit pants, a white shirt and a black tie (thank you Jono and Kelly). I decide on jeans and my nice new top. We are ready to hit it!

We catch a cab to the Bellagio. We make it just in time to see the outrageous water fountain show. Performed every 15 minutes to the classic Elvis Priestly tune, Viva Las Vegas. The crowd is massive and we manage to catch a glimpse. The explosion and volume of water is amazing. Again, everything is big and crazy in Vegas.

We spend the next hour trying to find the perfect table for Marty. We are looking for a $5-10 table. All we seem to be able to find are $15 tables - apparently that is going to throw the strategy out. We finally find the perfect place - Bill’s Gamblin’ Hall & Saloon. It is perfect. Marty settles in to a table that is right near the karaoke area. I sit next to him with a $2 margarita and watch the craziness unfold. Marty is focussed on his game - and getting free drinks for playing - awesome. While he plays I watch the karaoke talent.

Watching, I see the usual selection of karaoke enthusiasts. The woman who believes she is the next Celine Dion, the woman who thinks she is a stripper and jumps on stage to be a back up dancer to a guy rapping, the guy who believes he is a country music super star and has the whole audience singing along to a country classic (me too actually), the woman who says ‘fuck you’ to the audience and sings a song no one else knows (and gets booed in the process - the crowd is getting pissed and rowdy). The old woman dressed like a Pink Poodle from the movie Grease, dancing around the floor with a cardboard cutout of James Dean - followed by a man with a video camera who looks at me and just says “youtube ready”. And then, SHE comes on. I had noticed her in the crowd earlier but thought she was just dressing up like Lady Gaga because she could and because it is Vegas. She steps onto the stage, her performance as serious as if she were the real thing. The music starts, it’s Bad Romance. This woman has not only learnt the lyrics, she has learnt the moves, and she is nailing it! A few drunk men standing in front of me start yelling, “show us your thing!”. But as the performance continues, and the crowd gets behind her, they realise she is actually a woman and are very confused. Her performance is amazing. Her voice might not be great, but her commitment to the performance is what wins over the crowd. She IS Lady Gaga. We al sing with her, we all want to dance with her. She is amazing! When her song finishes, she leaves the stage as cooly as she stepped on it, and a wave of disappointment sweeps through the crowd - we are all sad that it is over. We want more. Click HERE to see the amazingness of fake Gaga.

I turn back to Marty and he informs me that he has won $100. He is tempted to keep going. I can see the thirst in his eyes. He is hungry for more. But I remind him that his plan for the evening was that if he won $100 he walk walk away and cash it in. He looks torn, but pulls himself away. We walk over to the cashier, who congratulates him excitedly. We walk out of the casino. Marty happy with his winnings. Me, happy with having seen Lady Gaga.

Woo Vegas.