I Need Vegas Advice

Should I try The Palms?

I've been contemplating a trip.  I thought about visiting one of my homies in Pensacola to catch a football game with him at his favorite sports bar.  I considered visiting my brother in Dallas and maybe catching a game out there.  But, maybe I should get away to a place where no one knows me.  Maybe I should finally give Vegas a shot.

I've always thought about going there due to the many entertainment options.  The biggest dilemma for me is what should I do while I'm there?  There are tons of hotels, bars, nightspots and shows.  So, how am I going to know which spots are worth my time?

The first thing that I'm going to do is contact my Twitter friend, Cherie.  I know that Ms. @Redhead_702 will do what she can to recommend all of the premier entertainment options for Vegas.  I follow her Twitter timeline like a hawk and she always seem to find the best eating spots and parties in the Vegas area.  I also think that @Ida_homie has been there a few times as well, so I'd love to hear his input.

Now, I'm not really the partying type (any more), but I would be open to going some where and watching people enjoy themselves on the dance floor.  I'm just not going to get out there myself and pull a hamstring.  There's no fun flying home from a vacation with an injury, you know?  LOL!

I just want to get away for a while and add another city to my "Been There, Done That" list.  I got a taste of western living while in San Diego last month and I think I want to experience more of it.  Portland, Seattle, L.A. and San Francisco will be other places that I'll consider going forward, but now, Vegas is on my radar.  Since it is so far away, I really want to make sure that I maximize my time while there.  I definitely don't want to go that far and not have a comfortable stay as well as some stories to share.  And when I say "stories to share," I don't mean talking about a trip to the Bunny Ranch.  LOL!  I'm not a pay-to-play type of guy.

"So, for $5,000, I can have both of you and a monkey?"

I'm hoping for an opportunity to go there this time next year. I usually take two trips a year and although I'm traveling alone now, I hope to continue that tradition. I came across a site that lists a few reasonable and inexpensive lodging options in Vegas, so I guess that's a start towards that dream. I'll do my research and await advice from some of my readers on the "where and what."

 Do you have Vegas recommendations for things to do/places to stay?

Two True 2

Okay, I have two true stories to tell, but I'd love to hear your comments on how you would have handled these situation if found in the same predicament. The first story can be found here.

Story #2
It's Summer of '97 and my cousin, Jay, my homie, Shawn and I were hanging out at a nightclub called The Pinnacle. We don't go to this particular club very often because it's just not high on our list of places to go. Normally, we'd go to Inez's, which was a hole in the wall, or The Millennium, which was a nice spot and the location of story #1. The Pinnacle was a club for people ranging from ages 28-40 and at the time, I was not in that age range. This was before the term "cougar" was created, but that's what me and the guys had in mind when we walked into this club that night. We wanted to find an older woman to spend some time with that evening.

There was this long-legged lady who was at the bar across the room from us. We could never see her very well thanks to the low lighting in the club, but we could tell that she had a banging body. She appeared to be kind of tall and since I'm not, I kind of crossed her off my mental list of women to try and get familiar with that evening. After all, I'd recently dated a woman who was five inches taller than me and aside from slow dancing with her, it wasn't all that fun. Especially when she'd mess with me and rest her elbow on my shoulder like I was a gnome or something.

But, I digress. This mysterious lady's height wasn't an issue for Shawn or Jay. Shawn is 6'2" and Jay is 5'10". I'm stuck on 5'6" thanks to not listening to my mom when she told me to eat my vegetables as a child. So, Shawn and Jay kept an eye on her, but didn't approach since she was occupied at the bar with another dude.

Then the mood of the music changed and things got a little more uptempo. The lady stepped her way onto the dance floor and we could get a better look. She was roughly 5'10" in her thigh-high black boots and her dress stopped just a few inches above those boots. She had a short haircut and enough cleavage to hold a peanut M&M steady. It was still dark in the club, but anyone could tell that this woman was a stunner.

There were a lot of older guys in the club and none of them would dance with her (or could hang with her).  Before we knew it, she walked over to the table and asked Jay to dance. Shawn and I looked at him as if he had won the babe lottery. Younger women in the clubs we frequent won't normally ask a guy to dance, but older women seem to go for theirs. They sashayed their way onto the dance floor and she was all over Jay like wet polyester. Shawn and I had to pick up our jaws from the floor. Not only did the finest woman in the club just walk over and grab Jay, she was grinding all on him.

But, after a minute or so, you could detect that something just wasn't right. Jay didn't seem to be enjoying himself. He seemed as if he was distracted or repulsed whenever the lady tried to talk to him. Immediately I started thinking to myself, "Maybe she has bad breath from drinking Heinekens or something. Surely Jay can power through that."  Robert Townsend once said that you don't sell a Mercedes because there's a dent in the door and bad breath can be easily cured.

After the four minute dance, Jay made his way back over to the table with the lady following him. It was very unlike him to sit down after one dance. Jay was a guy who could dance for an hour very easily. He sat down next to me and the lady walked over and asked Shawn to dance. Shawn, who was invoking man code, politely said "no" in order not to throw salt in Jay's game. After all, first come, first serve is the man code and Jay was first to get an opportunity with her. I also did the same and refused to dance with her despite the fact that I was willing to throw away my ban against taller women just to see what those curves felt like on the dance floor.

"I guess it's you again, babe!" she said as she grabbed Jay by the hand and pulled him out of his seat.

"I'm tired." Jay lied.

"No, you're not!" she said grabbing him around his waist. "Get out here!"

That's when Shawn and I got a really good glimpse and realized what it was that was plaguing Jay. This lady may have had 16 teeth in her mouth and two of them appeared rotted. Imagine Halle Berry with a mouth full of dominos or a 5'10" version of Jada Pinkett-Smith after eating Oreos.

If you were Jay, what would you do?

Two True

Okay, I know today is April Fool's Day, but I have two true stories to tell, but I'd love to hear your comments on how you would have handled these situation if found in the same predicament.

Story #1
It's Summer of '95 and my friend Shawn and I are chillin' at our favorite club back in the day. It's 2 AM and the crowd is starting to thin out a bit, but the music is still pumping strong. I'm having a conversation with a young lady named Lyn. She had become a regular dance partner of mine at this club that I've been frequenting since my last girlfriend and I broke up. I'm talking to her and Shawn is standing next to me bobbing his head to the music. Lyn's very attractive cousin walks up. Her name is Patty and she's just arriving to the club after work. Patty is wearing a pink tank top, denim shorts and heels and looks better than a bag of snacks. She walks up and before Shawn and I even get a good look at her, she grabs him by the hand and pulls him onto the dance floor. He smiles back at me as he get pulled onto the floor. I once had a problem deciding upon Lyn or Patty when I first met them, but Lyn helped me make that decision by being aggressive.  That left Shawn open for a shot at Patty.

The music is still jumping and as I look out onto the dance floor, I see a bunch of happy drunks doing their thing. Whatever song was playing at the time gave the instructions to "throw your hands in the air and wave 'em like you just don't care." I turned my attention from the dance floor and back to Lyn. "So, do you want to get something to eat when we leave?" I start.

"You act as if I'm leaving with you." she smirked.

I smiled. Playing hard to get wasn't a deterrent to me at all. Besides, I figured if Shawn was doing his thing, then he would be joining us along with Patty. As soon as that thought entered my mind, I look up and Shawn is walking across the dance floor with a look on his face I've never seen. It looked as if he was constipated and had seen a ghost. Patty is still on the dance floor dancing in front of the mirror. Immediately, I started thinking about how my plan would fall apart if Shawn didn't occupy Patty while I made the moves on Lyn. I pulled Shawn to the side. "What's wrong?," I started, "What are you doing?

"Man," he started with almost a tear in his eye, "that chick is husky!"

"What?" I asked trying not to explode into laughter at his choice of words. "Husky? As in smelling bad?"

"Yeah, man." he replied. "She threw her hands in the air and I almost threw up my drinks on the floor."

"What did you say to her to get away?" I asked trying to hold back a laugh. Sorry, but "husky" is just a funny word to hear when referring to a woman.

"I told her I had to go to the bathroom." he said.

Patty then danced her way over to Shawn and threw her arms around his shoulders. "I thought you were going to the bathroom," she said. "Let's dance some more!"



What would you do?



The 2nd of two true stories can be found here...

Aren't You Too Old For That?

We all love to hold on to our youth as we grow older, but, at what point is a person too old to do something? When are we too mature for certain activities that should be reserved for the younger generation?

Night Club

Playa, playa!

I said that I would never be the old man in the club. I kept my word and bowed out of the night life scene shortly before getting married at age 30. I remember being 21 years old and in the club looking at people in their early 30's wondering why they were there. Anything over 28 years old seems like 40 years old to a 21 year old. I just didn't have a desire to be the guy sitting on the bar stool saying, "C'mere, gurl!," to every single woman who walked by. I didn't want to be the guy who piled up a $100 bar tab and still went home alone. But, to each their own. If Daddy Warbucks wants to shell out his social security money, then more power to him.

Wardrobe

Charo

At some point, you have to say to yourself, "I look like a complete fool in this outfit."

Right? Well, everyone doesn't have the "common sense gene." Some people can convince themselves of anything. Bobby Brown convinced himself into believing that he could sing. Margaret Cho convinced herself into believing that she was funny. Bill Clinton convinced himself that smoking weed and not inhaling was okay.

The point is: it's important to have real friends. Real friends will be honest with you to prevent you from doing something stupid. Maybe the lady in the above photo doesn't have any friends (or outlived them all). But, how many times have you dressed to go out and your friend shakes their head and sends you back to the closet? Well, when you're older, you don't have friends hanging around with you when you go out. You just get dressed. That's why you'll see older guys with pants up to their nipples or older women with wigs only an inch above their eyebrows. So, given that info, what do you think is going to happen to a 58 year old who thinks she would look good in her granddaughter's outfit?

Unconventional piercings

Drew Barrymore shows her piercing

It's your body, so ultimately, you can do what you want with it. I'm sure with all of the ink on Lil' Wayne's body, that when he gets old and wrinkled, he'll simply look severely bruised. But, at least he was young when he did it. What about people who decide they want to be adventurous a little later in life? At what age is a person too old for a tongue, chin, nose or eyebrow ring? Of course, if you're a celebrity, then you can get away with anything at any age. But, what if you're Roberta, the cashier at the gas station down the block? Can she be a 53 year old rocking a tongue ring?

Should you give it up once you become a parent? Grandparent? I mean, do you really want your son or daughter's friends to start giggling every time you leave the room?

The moral to this post is: make sure you have reliable friends as you get up in age. Someone you can trust to say "you're too old for that" when you decide that you want to wear a bikini despite the fact that your breasts sag so much that you look like you have four arms.

Are you truly as old as you feel or as old as you are?


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Girls Gone White

I'm up late watching HDNet which is one of my favorite channels. After watching a very entertaining episode of "Art Mann Presents," I go to the kitchen to get some water only to return to the start of "Girls Gone Wild: Unrated."

That show is absolutely nuts.

It's amazing how just a production name and a camera can bring out the most unpredictable behavior in a person. I could go into a bar in Jackson with a GGW t-shirt on, a microphone and someone carrying a camera and literally wind up with a group of topless women in a hotel room licking on each other. God bless America, right?

For those of you who have not seen this phenomenon, let me break down a typical show segment for you:

Guy shows up at beach with a microphone and a camera man. Women immediately start to turn towards the camera, pull up their bikini tops and scream "whooooooooo!!!!!!" The guy then selects five girls to go to his limo where he then instructs three of them to do a three-way tongue kiss for the camera. After that, he asks that each of them turn around and show their butt before reminding them that they can no longer wear their tops in the limo. After the ride back to the GGW bus, the ladies get on board and commence to doing each other on a bed.

This is pretty much the entire show. I know what you're asking yourself, "What do the girls get in return for showing their breasts and butts to the world via HDTV and Web?"

A GGW t-shirt and booty shorts! Well, that's all worth it then, right?

But, after about 15-20 minutes, I started noticing that something was missing while I was composing this blog post with this show playing in the background. I started to notice that it was basically a loop of similar-looking girls with pierced nipples in every other shot. Nothing exotic. Nothing uncommon. Just everyday mall rats who were looking for their 15 minutes of fame by any means necessary. Then it hit me:

In the words of Bizarro Sheriff Bart from 'Blazing Saddles,' "Where all the black women at?" That's right. 30 minutes without a site of one sista. Not even a chica or a pinay. Just Girls Gone White.

Then again, I do understand that it's not necessarily a race thing. It's a money thing. That's what sells. Who pays to see naked and white party girls? White guys. Do you know who else pays to see naked and white party girls? Every other race of guys. So, you can't lose right? Let's be honest, I would guess (I don't know for sure) that more non-white guys would buy a GGW Blu Ray quicker than white guys would buy a Black GGW Blu Ray.

You have to cater to the market, right? And white women are universal like Type-O blood. I know some sistas may wrinkle their foreheads reading this, but I didn't make the rules or set the standards. Society did long before I walked this earth. White women are the only race of women who can have their sex appeal marketed in any part of the world because they are stereotyped to be more fun than other races.

Is that true? I don't know. I've never dated a white woman before. I've had plenty of friends (no benefits), classmates and co-workers who were white, but their personalities weren't too much different than any black women I knew. Somewhat less guarded and more outgoing than some black women? Maybe. Then again, I didn't hang around too many party types on a regular basis.  I have a (black) homie of mine who has dated mostly whites in his life. I've heard him refer to them as "easy-going," "open" and "adventurous." Is he accurate? I haven't a clue, but I do know that none of the women in the show appeared to have any regrets for what they were doing. Half of them didn't even appear to be drunk. They all seemed like a group of girls who just wanted to have a good time and be able to say they were "a Girl Gone Wild."

Well, personally, it's not a big deal to me. I realize that it's easier to find a water-skiing squirrel on YouTube than it is to find a black woman on an after-hours premium channel. I don't think it means that white women are all "party girls" or sexier any more than black women are.

I just think it means that they sell more Blu Rays/DVD's. Type-O.




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Kings of the Club

At some point, you have to do like Teddy P. and "let it goooooo!" There has to be a stopping point, right? When is enough, enough?

You're probably asking yourself, "what in the world is he talking about?"

I'm talking about being too old to party like a rock star. I remember that faithful day when I went out to the local nightclub with my partner in crime, Shawn. I'm almost 29 years old and feeling pretty good about myself. I had my own home in a nice neighborhood, a great job, and my car was paid for. Life was good.

We get to the club and go inside without paying like we normally do. Shawn and I have been coming to this club for seven or eight years now and the bouncers just let us through. Bypassing the line and walking in the club gets the ladies' attention, too. Every blue moon, we'll tell the bouncers that a couple of hot ladies in line are with us and get them in immediately. We loved the attention that would bring us. We'd bring them in, tell them to enjoy their evening, and walk off. It was a tactic we used regularly that had a high success rate (since ignoring hot women confuses and intrigues them). We knew that if we didn't have any luck with anyone else in the club that night, we could always find our way back to the ladies who thought we were "high rollers" with "V.I.P." status.

So, we walk inside and go straight to the bar. I rarely drink, but Shawn can put back some Michelob Ultras and we're friends with all of the bartenders. We're at the bar and two girls approach me.


Another day at the office for me and Shawn back in the Summer of 1994. And yes, I'm sober.

So, before I could proceed to go into my "bar lean" and dish out some of my best game, one of the two girls asked me, "Excuse me, sir. Can you get us some beer?"

"Sir?"

"Yes, sir. We're 19 and they won't sell it to us."

Whoa, whoa, whoa. I came to a reality that I ultimately knew would happen some day: I'd become "the old man in the club." (dramatic soap opera music of your choice plays here)

Noooooooooooooooo!!!!!!

"No, I will not buy you two any beer and get my bartender friend in trouble."

"You suck!"

Wow. Craziness. Despite the insult, I'm still stunned that I've been referred to as "sir" and that I've encountered two females in the club that weren't even born in the same decade as me. I catch up with Shawn and tell him the story and he cracks up laughing. "Man, if they're old enough to bleed, they're old enough to breed."

"Uh, thank you, Confucius. The point I'm trying to make is that we're finally the old men in the club, nut! Remember how we used to laugh at those guys eight or nine years ago? We're them!"

"Dude, you got me messed up. We ain't older, we're better. We've just graduated from the Princes of the Club to the Kings of the Club."

Wow. He actually made sense to me for a hot second. Sure, 80% of the club was under 22-yrs old, but we were still young enough to mingle, right? Besides, it could also be advantageous to us since our experience would easily allow us to manipulate the younger women. Because contrary to what younger women think, you are at an older man's mercy when he knows what he's doing. He will leave you so dazed and confused that the day after, you will be looking for him in the middle of the afternoon with a flashlight because your mind is so gone.



The night went on and after dancing until 4 AM, I went home while Shawn ended up catching a ride with one of the blondes who asked me for a drink. I guess he bought her one. He was always in predator mode, but I rarely took the easy route with women. I always found the finest girl in the club and would try to talk to her. I got rejected a lot, but I always preferred a challenge. Hooking up with some drunk chick was never my thing. Besides, Shawn was into blondes. I wasn't.

I made up my mind at that point that I would no longer go back to that club on a regular basis. It was time to find a more mature place to hang out. A place where I would once again be the "young buck."

Why some people can't have the same epiphany is beyond me. So many Facebook statuses every Sunday morning show updates about some of my peers over 35 years old discussing going out the night before at college-level nightclubs.

Why? Can't you accept the fact that it's time to move on to something different? It doesn't mean that you can't go out, you just shouldn't go out where people are a decade and a half younger than you.

Shawn is still clubbing. He's divorced, 40, and living his life. He now chooses to party where other 40-year olds do down at his new home in Pensacola, FL. He's cool with that and I think it's cool, too. Especially since his stepson is now old enough to attend the club where he and I were once Kings.

JAN to MCO II (I'm Not 24 Any More)

This isn't my typical rant. Then again, it isn't a rant at all, but I wanted to share more about my recent trip to Orlando. This is part two of three. To see part one, click here.

My business meeting ended last Wednesday, which is earlier than normal, but it is what it is. So, instead of flying home on Wednesday evening, I flew The Mrs. down to Orlando to spend the rest of the week there with me. It was her first time in Orlando, so I thought we would make it a mini-vacation. We stayed in our favorite hotel, The Hyatt Place, but I now have a beef with them after their internet service kept crashing. I couldn't blog at all which is why I'm just now telling you about a trip from last week.

We hung out with some of my co-workers for a little Trivia Night at the Miller's Ale House in Sanford. Won 1st place ($30 bar tab) in the first game, too! On Thursday night, I visited some relatives of mine in Altamonte Springs and had a great time. But, Friday night was where the fun really happened. We made our way to Universal Studio's City Walk to see if we could grab a bite to eat and find something to get into later.



Since City Walk offered a pass to visit all of their night clubs for only $12, we figured we'd give it a try. After all, most of the nightclubs there charging $7-$10 admission any way.

First up was Jimmy Buffet's Margaritaville. We went there to eat, but it was packed! A 45 minute wait. Now, you would think I would have tried a drink there being that the place is named after one, but for someone reason, it slipped my mind! I guess seeing some waitresses on stilts threw me for a loop.

We ended up eating at the NASCAR Restaurant basically because it was no one there. LOL! Boy, were we surprised! The food was off the chain! I had a three-cheese burger and The Mrs. had chili nachos and we chowed down like hostages after a week-long standoff.

After stuffing our faces, it was time to hit the clubs. We peeped Bob Marley: A Tribute to Freedom and the reggae band there was nice! They have an outdoor pavillion that has a lot of dancing room and the band was posted up under a gazebo and they were getting down! It would have been so much more enjoyable had it not been 34 freakin' degrees! 34 freakin' degrees in Orlando? That wasn't in the brochure! This is supposed to be the Sunshine State!



Anyway, we checked out the Red Coconut Club which was lame and then The Groove which had one of the best DJ's I've heard in a while. He kept the dance floor packed! It was the first time I've danced since my quadriceps tear in Nov. '09. I started to feel my age, too. After two or three songs, I soon realized that I'm not 24 any more!

But, the highlight of the night (for me) was City Walk's Rising Star Karaoke Bar. This place not only allows you to make a fool out of yourself in front of an audience, you get to make a professional fool out of yourself! Once you get on stage, it's not just you. There's no DJ spinning the instrumental tracks of songs. It's a live band who plays your song. Also accompanying you on-stage are two backup singers and a hype man to pump the crowd while you perform. It is basically an amateur concert and it was a very nice alternative to the karaoke spots here in Jackson where you will see a drunk standing next to a jukebox singing some Patsy Cline song. We call those spots "Waffle Houses".



The Mrs. and I spent most of the night there while laughing at some of the entertainment who clearly had too much to drink. Don't get me wrong. Some of them were actually pretty good performers, but others were just having a great time with no shame.

After we left there, we stopped in for a sec at The Latin Groove which was kind of boring. Then again, it was almost 2 AM which is when everything closes.

The Mrs. and I really had a good time at the City Walk. We absolutely do not club at home, so this was something different for us. We both enjoyed ourselves tremendously.

America's Most Wanted, Vol. 2

This is a Q Service Announcement! Be on the look out for this individual:

Perpetrator: Drink Man
Crime: Time Bandits

Ladies know this man very well. He's the guy you meet with his hand already in his pocket waiting to buy you a drink. Not because you're thirsty. Not because he wants you to have it. He buys you a drink because he wants your company. If your time was a soul, then this guy is the devil. You accepting his drink, in his mind, obligates you to dance with him when asked and/or provide your phone number. You sipping that drink is an oral agreement to commit your loyalty to him for the evening.

I don't know where these guys originated. Drink Men have been around way before I was born, but somewhere the game got changed. Guys in the black and white movies on AMC would send a drink across a crowded room to a lady. Only if acknowledged to approach would they stroll over to her to introduce themselves afterwards. Not 2010 Drink Man. "Baby, I got you. I got you, boo. What are you drinking?"

Five minutes later there's a guy sticking closer to you than Secret Service to Obama.