Hi. It’s Friday. I’m on deadline. So I will keep this short and sweet. Here’s ID Collection’s Jim Williamson with his musings. I’m back from my first trip to Vegas. You heard me. I have never been to Vegas. Technically, I had a layover on a flight from hell in Las Vegas, but that doesn’t count. So seeing as this was my first trip and also my first anniversary, I had visions of dancing the night away in some huge, over-the-top club and strolling into the hotel the next morning still dancing and feeling the buzz of Vegas. Now me dancing the night away might seem strange to some, but in all reality, it isn’t that strange.
Back in the early 1990s, on a visit to San Francisco, I somehow end up at this huge underground club, the name of which changed weekly. At some point, and I am certain those Jell-O shots had absolutely nothing to do with it, I wound up on top of this giant box where I proceeded to knock the dancer off with some crazy hip thrusting move. I took over his job for the rest of the night. I am glad this was prior to iPhones.
On the day of my arrival in Vegas, I had those dreams of recreating my Salt-n-Pepa moves on the dance floor. So it only figures that Montezuma would choose that day as a good time to seek revenge. How is it that exactly one year earlier, when I arrived in NYC to a surprise marriage proposal at Cartier on Fifth Avenue, I had the worst case of food poisoning ever? I am now beginning to think am I allergic to big events including anniversaries. Or perhaps this is the time of year when my body decides to put me on a cleanse against my will.
Anyway, being the trooper I am, I was not going to let my stomach ruin my anniversary. Fortunately, we had a lovely room booked at Mandarin Oriental, which they like to call “ZEN city.” And Zen it was. It was lovely. Everything was computerized, so when you entered the room, the drapes opened and soft music played. No stale cigarette smoke, no clang of the gambling machines, and not a pair of crocks to be seen. Heaven!
Trust me, the hotel experience alone made the trip, and it didn’t hurt that Vader had booked spa treatments. (I’m trying out nicknames for my partner, and I am open to suggestions. ) Two hours later, I was scrubbed, buffed, and stone massaged into a state of complete nappiness. (Happiness with a nap.)
Later, we threw on our new Prada shoes (purchased at an awesome sale at the largest Prada store ever), and headed to the Venetian to see Joan Rivers. She was so funny that I had tears rolling down my face, which quickly turned to ice cubes because it was so freaking cold in that theatre. I’m not sure if they kept it cold to help preserve Joan or not. I had to roll the bottom of my shirt up over my arms just to stay warm. Unfortunately, the woman a few seats down had on nothing but a mini skirt and a strapless top. She had nothing she could roll up or down. She just sat there stoned-faced and shivered the entire time.
On our final day, we hit the pool again. The good people there bring you frozen grapes to cool you down, sunscreen, cocktails, and just about anything you could ask for. Montezuma had begun his retreat so we decided to try STK at the Cosmopolitan. When we first approached, the music was pumping like an Abercrombie & Fitch, and I couldn’t help but wonder, “How am I going to eat to this beat?” But once we settled in with some Blue Eyed Boy (the wine, not the waiter), I realized that the DJ was actually really good. I found myself dancing in my chair. As I watched people walk by, they were all dancing and grooving. The food turned out to be delicious, along with most of the waiters.
So that was Vegas. Even though it’s a land of never-ending parties, epic malls, and gigantic hotels, I return relaxed. And five pounds lighter. Until next time!
