Sunday, May 3, 2009

Pyramid Scheme

They say that what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas but I am pretty sure that was a notion invented by straight guys for whom nothing ever happens but they want it to see like it does. That way, you can brag without substantiating your claims in any real way. Gays do not have this problem. Shit goes down for them all the time. Also they are notorious gossips and braggarts. So no, what happens in Vegas doesn’t stay there, it goes global. Case in point: my weekend at The Luxor.

I got invited out for the weekend by the Luxor Las Vegas as part of a deal with the radio show. Who wants to say no to a free weekend out of town? Not a cheap ass like me. Plus, I have connections in Vegas. And even though I can do nothing for them in return, they are still happy to help me out. Suddenly, thanks to my friend Ryan, I was busy every night I was there. And I made the most of it.

Roommate came with me and my friend David flew in from Los Angeles to hang out with us too. Of all the people I knew in my fifteen year prison sentence in that exotic hell hole, David is the one I have remained the most in contact with. He does prefer long distance situations, so in a way, my moving out of town was the perfect excuse for us to hang out more. And when we hang out, we drink. A lot.

Friday night, we went to see Wolverine, which was a terrible movie, only made better by the fact that we had consumed a delicious tapas meal just before. After the movie, Roommate was dead beat tired from all the travelling and drinking that had already taken place. So he sacked out early while David and I headed down to Piranha to hang out with Ryan and the host there: Hot Chocolate. Piranha was like a dream come true. When I arrived, everyone made a giant fuss over me. I felt like a celebrity, ushered past the velvet rope in a blurry haze and then escorted up to a private room overlooking the dance floor with my friend Roman Heart twirling on a box below.

The VIP room was isolating from the rest of the bar which was a little frustrating but the party really came to us. Reichen came by, beyond blind drunk, mumbled something sweet and wandered off with a muttered but later unfulfilled promise to return. The drinks kept coming though as did two dancers from Zumanity who then enacted part of their act for us. Then Brent Everett came in and we all took pictures with him in various stages of undress. He didn’t know who any of us were but he went along for the ride. He’s a good sport. Then suddenly it was past four am (seven am my time) and really way past time to go home!



Saturday morning I had some work obligations, including some morning activities. Running on a lack of sleep and not able to nap, I made effect use of the jacuzzi tub in my suite at The Luxor to compensate. It worked pretty well and by Saturday night I was really for more marathon adventures. Our first stop was the Chippendales show. My friend Michael is the publicist and has had several of the dancers up to the show in the past. They ushered us in, plied us with drinks and we had an incredible time. It was really a ton of fun. A quick trip through IN N Out and it was off to a late show of Zumanity. Back to back shows was draining but we still had enough energy to pull another four am non-stop party at Krave afterward.

Krave had some kind of contest going with Janice Dickinson and designer Andrew Christian. There was a nominal emcee but I don’t think Janice thought she was sufficiently loud and proceeded to take over hosting duties from a chair on the side of the stage. The main attraction was really just hot guys parading around in Andrew’s underwear and after that was done, the twirlers returned to twirling on the dance floor, the music cranked up, and Janice returned to the relative safety and security of her VIP banquette packed, PACKED with gays. My friend Ryan asked me if I wanted to meet Janice. She had been a guest on our show once(over the phone) and I ran into her in 2005 at the White Party in Miami, but I knew she wouldn’t recognize me.

Ryan made the introductions and Janice pulled me down into the banquette into a seat right next to her deep inside the horseshoe. She told me I looked familiar and I mentioned the White Party. “How fucked up was I?” I tried to demur, but she pressed. “It was early,” I offered though that answer didn’t seem to please her. She was excited to do my radio show to promote her upcoming appearance on “I’m A Celebrity, Get Me Out Of Here” and help her raise money to fight AIDS. “It’s for the gays. I only do gay charities.” I let that pass. Then she told me about her recent experience hosting the notorious gay porn awards, the GayVNs in San Francisco. I told her that I had hosted it the year before. “Oh, then you know. I don’t know what it was like for you but it was eye opening for me.” Her face turned serious in the moment. “You know, I’m a soccer mom.”

What does one do when the world’s first supermodel describes herself as a soccer mom? Not to diminish the many soccer games that I have no doubt that she attended for her son and daughter, but soccer mom is not the first moniker I would have used to describe someone who vivacious and dynamic. But I guess we all see ourselves in our own way. Suddenly, she leaped up. “I love this song. I want to dance.” She jumped out of the banquette and started to dance with some gays near by. This was my exit. It was never going to get better and this was the perfect moment to slip away unnoticed. I made my polite good byes to her gays and headed out.

“Soccer mom, huh?” I thought to myself as I headed out into the predawn strip. “Maybe some things are better left in Las Vegas.”

1 comment:

Viewtiful_Justin said...

Soccer mom?! I can't BELIEVE she said that to you. She's as much a soccer mom as I am.

It sounds like you had a ball!