Sometimes I don't post because I don't feel up to writing about something yet. I don't feel up to writing about Vegas really. The short version is like this:
Sunday fucking sucked. Seriously sucked. Sometimes people just do things that are seriously rude and fuck you. I won't write about office politics because this is public, and my mom says not to put anything in writing that you wouldn't want published in the newspaper (or something like that)
Following the explosive suitcase of fuck you, there was the overbooked flight and shitty customer service and somehow, narrowly getting onto the flight, even after the door had been closed and it seemed hopeless.
Following the shitty flight (hey, I guess I should just count myself lucky that it landed. It's the little things, innit?) I arrive to a sold out and very busy Las Vegas (with taxi line to show) and find that some dipshit cancelled my hotel room. Fortunately I had printed out the confirmation letter to show the desk clerk, who showed me the proof that someone cancelled it after the fact. I guess they have a few rooms set aside even when sold out, so I did get a room.
Sunday night, sales dinner at Zeffirino in the Venetian. Monday morning, I had my chilaquiles at the Grand Luxe Cafe as required (yummm) and then we did a few hours of work. Dinner reservations were made at the hip new hotspot (I guess) Tao in the Venetian, but I got the message about ten minutes before dinner, that everyone else cancelled. Thanks! Well, shit, I went anyway by myself. Tao was cool. Nice space, food was good, dessert was GREAT. Go there just to have the raspberry chocolate wontons!
Tuesday the show opened and I worked in our booth until it was time to head to the airport.
Blah blah, Vegas is boring.
Last night, Paul and I went to Supperclub since Marisa had casually mentioned (ok, maybe she was begging :P) that she would be singing.
It's been the week of hip expensive restaraunts, so here's how it stacked up in my mind:
Bar: cool, I don't know what we overpaid for hipster drinks. I drank something that smelled like Robitussin, and something else that smelled like a cupcake.
Dining Room: The white was cool, I didn't need the marketing pitch that the cutting edge LED lights would produce 63,000 different colors in the evening. I work with color for a living, so this didn't do anything for me. the lights were cool, though. I'm just saying.
Beds: cool, but mostly because we ended up running into Dan and Irene and sitting with them. Would I have enjoyed being in bed that close to some greaseball hair-gel hipster trash and his fake Gucci girlfriend? Um, no. Whew! We dodged a bullet.
Performances: Marisa was awesome. Duh. The beatboxer was cool, but I was hoping for more variety or energy. Perhaps a vocalist ought to be paired with a dancer, or something to keep it less static? I heard about some cool aerialist performances there, so perhaps it was a quiet night.
Company: Wonderful. I adore Dan and Irene, and obviously Marisa. My boyfriend is totally hot.
Wait staff was fun and attentive. Vegetarian food was good (Paul thought some of it better than his meat-eater courses) and I didn't feel like I was getting the also-ran of steamed vegetables and polenta (as pointed out very correctly by Jesse, this is what you get 99% of the time when you are vegetarian at a nice restaurant). Dessert wasn't amazing. I like amazing desserts. It's sinful to forget chocolate!
I'd go again, particularly if I could afford it. I can't, so we'll probably limit ourselves, but I imagine we'll be back at some point.
At $60 per person, it's very reasonable for what you get. Really.
I even got to pinch the performer's ass. Twice!