Vegas, baby. Just because.
I’m going to Vegas this weekend. Three days with one of the best men (I couldn’t pick, so I made them all best men) from my wedding, with some time with a buddy of his from high school and a crazy beefcake metrosexual we both know from Seattle.
Gotta tell ya, I love Vegas. I fucking LOVE it, love it the way you love the lust of your life who you’re pretty sure gave you crabs. How decadent is Vegas? You can smoke in the fuckin’ elevators, man!
The dirty wicked unbridled joy of Vegas is a truth I assume is self-evident. So, I’ve been taken aback when I’ve been asked, as I have a number of times lately, by an incredibly broad range of people, after I announce that I’m going, “why?”
They pinch up their faces when they ask. What, you like throwing money away? What, you want to get fucked up, sell your little girl’s future to strippers one dollar at a time? What, you want some woman of loose morals to help you desecrate the sanctity of your matrimonial vows?
Why, why other than becauses you shouldn’t have, why would you want to go to Vegas?
To which I say: Listen! Back up offa me, you friggin’ Puritans. The Mayflower is thataway, and she’s sailing soon.
No, I don’t go to Vegas to lose all my money, get lap dances, and philander. Yes, I will likely get quite fucked up while I am there, but not the other things. I hate losing money so much it is a natural governor, think strip joints are fun because they are ridiculous, not sexy, and besides, I’m pretty sure I’ll be leaving my penis home in Seattle, tucked safely into my wife’s purse as usual.
So why do I go?
Because I love being near to the people that are doing all of these things. I get to enter this liminal zone, not one of those guys but close enough to taste the risk, no longer upright, uptight Daddy at home and not quite on a “What happens in Vegas” tear. I’m neither good nor evil in Vegas, neither safe nor dangerous. I’ll be sucking down Camels and free beer while playing nickel slots and looking at waitress tits when I answer a call on my cell and start telling my babykid how much I love and miss her. In babytalk if necessary.
I live life in the spaces between. Always have. It confuses people, which is good.
Gotta tell ya, I love Vegas. I fucking LOVE it, love it the way you love the lust of your life who you’re pretty sure gave you crabs. How decadent is Vegas? You can smoke in the fuckin’ elevators, man!
The dirty wicked unbridled joy of Vegas is a truth I assume is self-evident. So, I’ve been taken aback when I’ve been asked, as I have a number of times lately, by an incredibly broad range of people, after I announce that I’m going, “why?”
They pinch up their faces when they ask. What, you like throwing money away? What, you want to get fucked up, sell your little girl’s future to strippers one dollar at a time? What, you want some woman of loose morals to help you desecrate the sanctity of your matrimonial vows?
Why, why other than becauses you shouldn’t have, why would you want to go to Vegas?
To which I say: Listen! Back up offa me, you friggin’ Puritans. The Mayflower is thataway, and she’s sailing soon.
No, I don’t go to Vegas to lose all my money, get lap dances, and philander. Yes, I will likely get quite fucked up while I am there, but not the other things. I hate losing money so much it is a natural governor, think strip joints are fun because they are ridiculous, not sexy, and besides, I’m pretty sure I’ll be leaving my penis home in Seattle, tucked safely into my wife’s purse as usual.
So why do I go?
Because I love being near to the people that are doing all of these things. I get to enter this liminal zone, not one of those guys but close enough to taste the risk, no longer upright, uptight Daddy at home and not quite on a “What happens in Vegas” tear. I’m neither good nor evil in Vegas, neither safe nor dangerous. I’ll be sucking down Camels and free beer while playing nickel slots and looking at waitress tits when I answer a call on my cell and start telling my babykid how much I love and miss her. In babytalk if necessary.
I live life in the spaces between. Always have. It confuses people, which is good.
posted by JJisafool at 8:25 PM
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