WHEN VEGAS IS HELL

I’m sorry this post is late. I arrived in Las Vegas for a conference yesterday and the hotel Internet system has been wonky. That’s right boys and girls, in the land where you can get a group of bi-sexual midgets dressed like Elvis to go down on you, you can’t get Internet access. I blame it on the terrorists.

Even though my last day at my corporate hack job is Wednesday, the president of the company wanted me to come here. I’m not sure why, unless it is a feeble attempt to entice me to stay. It isn’t working.

First, Vegas is not as much fun to me anymore. In my 20s, when I could drink for 72 hours straight, had disposable income because I didn’t own a house, and was single, it was the promised land. But now I’m old, my liver is on life support, and I’d rather pour acid on myself than date again. Now, my idea of a good vacation is somewhere I can sleep all day on a beach and have cabana boys fetch me drinks and food. Half naked cabana boys, that is.

Add the fact that in Vegas everyone can smoke anywhere, and I’m not a happy camper. I have a mild case of asthma, and cigarette smoke really bothers me. I’m not a Nazi about it like some people, mind you. I understand everyone has the right to smoke, have smoked myself socially when I was younger and love a good cigar. But I’m so used to living in California, where smokers are drawn and quartered for smoking within a mile of anyone else, I find I’m even more sensitized to it. I have had to resist the urge to yell at everybody who stands there puffing in the hotel lobby. I finally snapped when a guy blew smoke directly in my face without apologizing. My only defense was to hack mucus all over him and call him a fucker through the wheezing.

Another reason I might not be liking Vegas is that I am, afterall, here for a conference. I don’t care where you hold a conference, or how many smoke machines and light shows a conference has (and this conference, I’m sorry to say, has had SEVERAL smoke machines and light shows.) It is still a conference. And listening to your bosses drone on all day makes you want to stab your eyes out with the free pen they give you.

It has been even more painful because the powers that be at my company have been trying to inject humor into their presentations. On occasion this works. Most of the time though it is painful, embarrassing, and just plain sad. There is nothing worse, in my opinion, then someone who thinks they are funny and SO AREN’T FUNNY. Wait, I lied. There is something worse – someone who thinks they are funny in front of 500 people, when they are SO NOT FUNNY. Hint: If you are an accountant, most likely you are not funny. If you live with your mother, most likely you aren’t funny. If people look like they want to shoot you while you’re talking, most likely you aren’t funny.

Still, there have been some memorable moments. My job, for no real logical reason, happens to be in the HR Department. So I get to hang out with HR folks who, surprisingly, have quite a sense of humor. I think it is because they have to deal with fuck-ups all day. Because they usually have to be politically correct at work, socially they are usually insensitive and rude … two things I admire in people as long as they aren’t blowing smoke in my face.

So far today, the HR department has talked about Swingers, in which we think someone in our office is one; nipple piercings; bi-sexual sluts; and vibrators (in particular one called the “Wolf” which I’m currently looking for to purchase). We’ve also speculated, after seeing a half naked guy juggle a box in the lobby of the Aladdin, what resumes in Vegas look like. “Experience: Box juggler, stripper, fire eater, contortionist, Elvis impersonator. Will work with midgets and monkeys. Knows all the words to Copa Cabana. All shots current.”

Tonight there will be more lame jokes I’m sure, punctuated by bad food and droning. There will also be smoke machines and light shows. I can’t help but think Vegas wasn’t meant for this. Even if I am not up to breaking as many commandments as I used to when I was in Vegas, it seems wrong to be doing THIS.

Please … send midgets, alcohol, and “The Wolf” soon. I don’t know how long myself and my HR friends will last. I know Vegas is Sin City. As a Sinner I can appreciate that, even if I can't keep up anymore. But this conference-style Vegas is just HELL.