Ok, so. Girlfriend got a text from her dude. Yea right, big deal your thinkin', right? Yea. That's what I thought too. I was sincerely pissed that my little Gracie ruined my fantasy with Crocodile Dundee. I totally had the soap opera going in my brain too... She followed him over to the bar, he introduces himself as Jaime from Brisbane, and he didn't care that all the pretty ladies Grace came to Vegas with were happily married. Tonight, he wanted to buy the married ladies drinks. See, I knew you would like my soap opera. I think I am going to call it Gracie does V.... sorry, back to the story.
Ok, so, text messages. From the boyfriend. Big deal I say. Lets keep dancing. I only get to do this once a year and dude is cramping my painful shoes, hair done up, too tight dress, fake eyelashes style. I am rockin this freaking too tight dress by the way, and I am not going to let lonely boy back home in rainy ol' Seattle ruin my night! Some party pooper had to point out that it was late, and that they were tired anyway. "Come on girls, let's go to bed." someone says. "We don't even know if that accent is real anyway." Damn soap opera. Ruined. Totally ruined.
We traipse our way back across the sky bridge to the MGM, you know the one with all the Mexican kids selling "Ice cold water" for "One dolla", through the casino with the wanna be "thousandaires" cooing at us from the black jack tables to our crappy first floor, no view room. Wow. What a great night. At least that is what I was thinking as I peeled off the fake eyelashes (that were expertly applied by the way...) and stuck them in the middle of the tiny mirror (just to be a snag). Oh well I thought, I am too old for this anyway and I drug my poor blistered feet to bed.
The next morning, Nic wakes up way too freaking early. As usual. She whispers loudly that she is going to find a bagel and some coffee and heads out of the room. Which leaves everyone awake, wondering why the heck she tried to whisper in the first place. Grace starts getting all nervous nelly again about this text message. "He is SO going to propose. I just know it" she says. I, being the pissed off awake girl at 7:00am says " well he should, it's about damn time" Grace gives me a sideways glare and goes on gushing about how she hopes he will do it at the beach where they had their first date, and that she hopes he picked a ring with an emerald cut stone in it... blah, blah, blah.... I am still pissed at the dude for ruining my evening with Jaime, Or Dundee, whatever the heck his name was...
Around 11:00am everyone is finally up and going. Well at least up. Maybe not going. Girlfriend just drug her butt out of the shower, so at least I was kind of going. Grace hollers from the doorway, " I am headed to the pool, I will try to save some decent real estate" "Ha, good luck honey, it's almost noon" I say back. I heard her mumble something that sounded like "itch" under her breathe as the door slammed behind her....
No comments:
Post a Comment