Every now and again, I read a post that I imagine (or wish) I might have written myself. That’s exactly how I felt when this little ditty popped up in my inbox.
For the third in the series of travel-related guest posts, we have KLZ, of Taming Insanity. If you’re not already reading KLZ’s blog, please go. Now. This woman is supportive, funny, and leaves what I think are the best one-liner comments in bloggyland. Today she writes about a few of my favorite things: Vegas, bourbon, and traveling without your kids. Ah, the good old days.
Vegas is an amazing spectacle of debauchery.
Unless you are pregnant.
Then it is a torture chamber. A torture chamber where you are forced to witness your husband’s spectacle of debauchery.
BTW, do you know how much one banana costs in Vegas? More than a drink. An alcoholic drink. So when your pregnant self is trying desperately to not gain 10,000 pounds, it’ll cost you.
But eventually it’ll come in handy.
Seeing as I was pregnant, you’d think I would have picked another destination. Except that I’m cheap. Plus, David always seems to manage to win cash in Vegas. I’m not sure how he does it and it upsets quite a few people we know. He’s been accused of having a horseshoe lodged up his butt by more than one person.
Ultimately, we were in Vegas because David had a conference there. Couple his company paying for his room and airfare with 300,000 United miles and what have you got? Say it with me: free vacation!
Let me clarify: a free vacation for my birthday.
My point is: this vacation seemed like a fantastic idea, expensive fruit and all. Not only would it be free but David would win money to pay off the expensive dinner we’d be having for my birthday.
Clearly, I’m not so bright.
The night of my birthday celebration started off harmlessly enough. I picked out a dress, which I slipped over my 13 week pregnant belly. A belly I thought was HUGE. I thought that everyone and their neighbors could see my belly. I thought that aliens in galaxies far, far away could easily identify me as pregnant. I mean, I couldn’t even button my pants!
We took this picture to document how “huge” I was at 13 weeks:
Again, I’m not so bright.
After that, we wandered over to the MGM for dinner. Where we had the slowest dinner service ever. David and I left pissed for different reasons. I had finally regained my appetite after all that morning sickness crap and hadn’t had my fill. David, on the other hand, was upset because he had intended to have more drinks before entering the Cirque Du Soleil show we’d bought tickets for.
Since he was sure they wouldn’t allow drinks in the theater (apparently he’d forgotten we were in Vegas and there were drinks everywhere), he ordered a couple at a nearby bar before we headed in. In his defense, they were pretty damn tiny drinks.
Still, this was the point where I should have headed back to the hotel by myself.
While David had his drinks, I got my pregnant self into line. Then I got out of line because I had to pee. I walked halfway across the casino, peed, then went and got myself back into line where David joined me.
We chatted idly when suddenly I noticed David was speechless. Speechless and gripping my arm quite hard. I followed his gaze. To the bar inside the theater.
The bar that was selling 32 oz. jack and cokes.
You know, I lied above. THIS was the point where I should have gone back to the hotel by myself.
Nowhere, ever, in the history of ever, should be allowed to sell 32 oz. jack and cokes. They lead to evil. They lead to your husband sharing his drink with a random stranger. Which wouldn’t bother you so much except that you are pregnant and the smell makes you want to vomit and you wish you could just go to bed already.
But you can’t go to bed. Because jack and cokes make your husband come down with “one more” syndrome. As in, “no, no, no, just one more hand and we’ll leave.” “just let the waitress come by one more time so I can tip her.” “I just need one more sip.”
Towards the end, these one more requests are met with one more death glare and one more threat of a punch to the throat.
Somewhere in here, I realized that I did not, in fact, look pregnant to anyone but myself. Which led to a lot of “Why are you being such a buzzkill, woman?” looks.
This in turn led to me loudly and frequently announcing “We have to go because I am tired and I am PREGNANT so we have to go.” Which is not super annoying at all.
Eventually I left my husband to share his drink with that stranger because I was tired and I was pregnant, so I had to go, as I reminded those at the blackjack table one last time. You know, just in case they hadn’t yet realized why I was so little fun.
When we awoke the next morning, David was not feeling so hot. So I handed him one of my mucho expensivo bananas. Bananas, if you don’t know, are high in potassium and potassium is good for hangovers.
He was…not enthused by my sacrifice. His head hurt and I was giving him a banana?
I fought the urge to tell him to store that banana with his horseshoe.
But the trip wasn’t a total bust. Since we’re talking about the horseshoe up David’s butt? We left that weekend up $400.
But neither of us knows how.
23 thoughts on “Vegas, Baby!”
$400 yahoo! And btw, you are not HUGE at 13 weeks! You need to give that up, you were are pretty and delicate as can be (no, contrary to popular belief, I am not being sarcastic!)
Right? I’d kill to look like that again.
But then. I have baby rabies. It’s more than just a fever.
Thanks again for posting my drivel over here. It was an honor.
Hope you are enjoying yourself!
bahahaha! Great story and seriously loling at the HUGE preggo pick… yeah the first time around we thought we were so big at 12 weeks. But I laugh because I totally get this. My husband has a thing for horse racing and I pretty much lived your story, sans Vegas and bananas. Oh and I hate being the pregnant bitch who isn’t fun, but seriously watching people get wasted (when I’d rather be participating) is NOT my idea of fun either!
I’ve always found it odd that women complain how huge they are and yet in photos, they like to hold their clothes down by their crotch to further accentuate their hugeness. *shrug*
And I almost spit out my coffee when I read where you were going to put the banana.
Oh, Vegas Baby!! With a baby-on-board….not quite the way the phrase was intended. I could put myself in your hugely-pregnant position and it would suck. Big Time. Because there are just so many things in Vegas that don’t bode well for pregnant gals.
And I hate bananas, especially expensive ones. I would’ve either stored it with the horseshoe or hit him over the head with it.
And you are NOT huge, as I’m sure you came to find out about 5 months later…..
400 bucks!!! We left practically nekkid! Kidding. We didn’t actually gamble but partook in lots of drinking…and lots of other things that Vegas rapes you for. I’m pretty sure that they charge you for the air you breathe.
You are definitely a keeper for giving up your expensive banana!
it’s so funny that all women think they are so huge at the beginning. or, well, throughout the whole pregnancy.
does d know you shared this tale?
I plead the fifth on that one.
I know now!!!!
Quick, hide me!
Very funny post! Vegas is right up there with Amsterdam for me. By the way, did either of you EAT the expensive banana?
I did end up eating it. I was not letting that money go to waste.
The pregnant pic is gorgeous, but yeah we all feel huge at the time 🙂 Jen
Men! Geesh! At least he made up for it by winning. Ha ha ha.
Banana with the horseshoe?
Know what else costs an arm & a leg in Vegas? Water. Bottled water is like 8 bucks yet a drink is free if you sit at the roulette table.
I have awesome luck at roulette. David and I should go gambling together.
I would enjoy seeing that. It would be…I don’t think there would be words to describe you and David gambling together.
And if boss lady were there? Terrifyingly awesome.
Ok! I am now going to organize a Blog conference in Vegas. You twisted my arm. However, two rules! No drinks consumed can be smaller than 32 oz. and everyone has to meet at the place Kristin wants to go. She knows what it is and you have to ask her to enlighten you.
OK. From what I know of your husband, KLZ, I like him. A lot. And this comment just solidifies that.
And if you are organizing a blog conference in Vegas, I am so there.
You should know, he talked about said blog conference all day on Saturday.
Huge? You? You know what huge is? It’s when you’re maternity shirt turns into a Britney Spears wanna be belly shirt when you’re only 4 months. Also, I weighed more than my husband right at the end.
So happy not to have to go through that again!
You are a very funny writer indeed, KLZ! : )
Oh, KLZ, you are so itty bitty and adorable.
Just wait, after baby #1, your other pregnancy bellies will be on FastForward. 0 to 6 month looking overnight.
You’ll be knocking things over with your ass AND your belly.
Comments are closed.