January 15th - The Hawaiian Tropic Zone and Love

Something is apparently wrong with me. I'm up at 5:45 am blogging. I must be excited about doing this...

Last night's activities began with a meal from Kentucky Fried Chicken. Having been well versed in the art of alcohol consumption and hangover avoidance from my days in New Orleans, I strongly advise the intake of greasy substances before and after "getting one's drank on." I arrived at The Aladdin...I mean Planet Hollywood right around 6:15pm for the Spy On Vegas event. Now, if you're not hip to Spy on Vegas, then consider yourself hipped. At SpyonVegas.com, there is a weekly listing of venues around town offering complimentary cocktails. The free lucy is made possible by one liquor sponsor or another. Last night's libations were courtesy of Lotus Vodka and some curious concoction entitled Tyku (the bottle glows!).

After parking in self-parking, I had to make it through the maze of shops to The Hawaiian Tropic Zone. I'm getting old. Instead of checking out the sales in the various shops, I found myself appreciating the tiling throughout. It was quite lovely and shiny and definitely the kind of job that causes one in high heels to slip and break a hip. I'm not sure why I expected the shops to be crowded. I always expect a crowd on The Strip. Maybe it was just too early. I can't figure out how those representatives peddling zip purses and lotion and those skirts that turn into dresses don't get bored to tears, but I digress....

The Hawaiian Tropic Zone is one of the main attractions of Planet Hollywood. Visible from Las Vegas Blvd, this spot offers tropically themed bar food, multiple television screens, and of course waitresses wearing bikini tops and itty, bitty sarongs. I could have sworn that one of those waitresses was tranny fierce and if so, go 'head girl. She looked good! My one complaint was the location of the bathroom. Down the hall, up some stairs, around a corner. What the hell do they do when someone's had one drink too many and requires prayers to the porcelain god? Again, couldn't help but appreciate the bathroom fixtures. Beautiful sinks indeed.

Everytime I go out, I always run into someone I know either from work or networking. Contrary to popular thought, Las Vegas is a very small town. All of the "go-getters" are constantly out and about. Tonight I ran into one of my associates from my days of peddling advertising on radio..let's call her Gia. Oh Gia. My, have we gotten into some trouble together. She's the main reason why I don't drink tequila. Anywho, we'll probably do lunch next week.

I settled at the bar with my free Lotus to scope the scene and wait for my friends to arrive. Never fails, some man from the midwest in the midst of a mid-life crisis popped into the seat next to me. Let's call him Dan, since I got his card and might do business with him if I'm ever in Ohio. Dan hailed from Cincinnati where it is currently 7 degrees outside. At 8:00am cst yesterday, he decided to just up and fly to Las Vegas with a couple of his buddies after leaving his eight year old and four year old in the care of his mother. His wife (which he initially made no mention of and actually tried to hide even after I pointed to his wedding ring) was away somewhere on business. Dan was born prematurely and had never experienced the comfort of breastfeeding. However, he had tasted breast milk when his youngest was born because his wife had produced enough milk to feed fourteen children. He had used said milk to prepare pancakes. His wife's breasts were now the size of his fist. Dan had been drinking Miller since 10:00am pst and was desperately in need of some sort of tobacco product. My friends arrived and Dan treated one of them to a shot of Jager while he scored another beer for himself. I was pretty sure that he was going to fall over before I could get him to buy me a glass of wine, so I left him alone. Besides, he had mistaken me for being 22 years old and Out Past 30 Lady always appreciates when men make that terrible mistake. I was relieved when he stumbled away to find a cigarette.

Spy On Vegas events last from 6pm to 9pm. How convenient! Our performance of Love started at 9:30pm. As more of our party arrived, we moved to a larger table, ordered nachos and kept the drinks coming. (Cheers to you, Jen! I'm looking forward to motherhood but I'll keep the partying going for you in spirit until the rabbit dies.) It's these kind of times that make me appreciate what Las Vegas has to offer. Around the table sat folks from California, Maryland and Michigan... most of which had only been in Vegas for a year. We agreed that it was difficult to know where to fit it until you make friends. We also agreed that making friends can be scary unless you're really outgoing and/or tipsy. (Thank you, Lotus martini with extra olives.) I, of course, distributed cards to every new contact made. We were all college-educated and professional and one just never knows when an opportunity may present itself. In particular, one new friend was a pilot for a commercial airline. Out Past 30 Lady's boyfriend lives in Georgia. Can you hook a sista up with some tickets, Mr. Pilot? We'll see.

We got to Love at 9:46pm. This was my second time seeing the show so I wasn't bummed and we were having such a smashing time anyway. Love is a Cirque Du Soleil show based on the discography of The Beatles. Performances are at Mirage Hotel and Casino. It's really a cool show and even if you're not exactly familiar with The Beatles you will be more than entertained. The dancers and acrobats do all kinds of tricks and stunts to the beat of tunes like I Want to Hold Your Hand, Strawberry Fields, Help and Lucy in The Sky ...With Diamonds. And there is so much to take in both on the central stage and in the air above you.

It was nice to see the show from a totally different perspective. First time around, I had front row seats. This time around we were in the very back. There's a part of the show when half of the audience is covered under a huge white canopy, so on last night I finally found out what was going on while the rest of the folks were underneath. Also, there's another part of the show where flashing lights are suspended in the air like stars. Oohs and Ahhs from me abound.

Be advised. Love is not the kind of show to see if you had an ample amount of liquor. Towards the end of last night, I was fighting the urge to be lulled to sleep. I imagine, however, that any euphoric drug user would find this show both pleasing and stimulating. Any extras from Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas would have been absolutely delighted. Additionally, the ushers are like hawks looking for any signs of photography. I snapped off a couple before one of the ushers warned me that she would confiscate my camera. As I was leaving, she wanted me to give her my camera to delete those photos. I informed her as pleasantly as I could that I'd had too many drinks to hand her my camera or to give a damn. She told me that any published photos would bar me from ever setting foot in Love again. I don't think that I will ever go back, but I won't post the photos here either. See the show for yourself. You'll love it.

Since today marks the beginning of Dr. King's holiday weekend, I'm very sure that my adventures for this week will not end here. McFadden's is having an I Have A Dream Pajama Party on Sunday night where ladies drink free from 10pm - 12am. Yes, ridiculous, I know....but this is Vegas, Baby!