What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.
Unless you have a blog….
Yesterday I read this post: What I did the day before I left Las Vegas over at Have a Laugh on Me. Reading Emily’s hilarious antics while on a whirlwind of a trip in Las Vegas last week reminded me of a funny/awkward situation that happened to me when Guns and I were over there a few years ago.
Let me set the scene for you.
The two of us were sitting in a bar at Planet Hollywood enjoying a few drinks. It was one of those situations where the cocktail waitress would pretty much bring you a fresh drink the minute you’d finished the one in your hand (vodka and cranberry for me, because I was on a carb free juice cleanse, obvs. Budweiser for Guns) which is excellent service and usually makes for a very fun night!
So we were a few drinks in when a group of men about our age sat down near us. We all started chatting and if their accents were anything to go by, they were from England.
They were in fine form, ordering all sorts of random drinks, telling hilarious jokes and generally having a great old time. I didn’t know why they were in Vegas but assumed they were on a bucks weekend or something and kind of wondered why they were sitting at a bar and not out wandering the Vegas strip looking for something a bit more exciting to do.
Naturally I needed to know what the go was, so I yelled at one of Englishmen over a Brittany Spears track that was blasting through the speakers located not so conveniently right above my head, “So, what brings you and your mates to Vegas?”
The Englishman looked into his drink and yelled back, “My wife left me and the divorce has just gone through. It’s been a rough time so my friends thought it would be a good idea to bring me to Vegas.”
“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that” I replied while shoving the tiny red straw that Vegas bars think are suitable for sculling beverages in a lady like fashion (FYI, they’re not) in my mouth and downing the remainder of my 57th vodka smoothie.
Now you’d think THAT would be the awkward part of this story, wouldn’t you? But no. It’s me we’re talking about. And if there’s one thing I excel at, it’s making a semi-awkward situation COMPLETELY AWKWARD.
At this point, The Englishman gets out his phone. He starts scrolling through photos, shows me a photo of a gorgeous young woman and says, “Here. Look at her.”
I’m assuming I’m looking at the ex-wife because that’s the person we’ve just talked about and even though she’s STUNNING, I’m feeling really sorry for this guy AND I’m half cut thanks to downing far too many organic vodkas, so in an attempt to make him feel better the following words come out of my mouth,
“Well all I can say is you are far better off without her. She looks like a right mole.”
He turns to me with a horrified look on his face and says, “Yeah, that’s not my ex. That’s my daughter.”
When was the last time you said something completely awkward? Have you been to Las Vegas for a vodka juice cleanse?
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