After a four-and-a-half-hour flight across the country, I woke up on a plane with my head nestled on the shoulder of the stranger sitting next to me. I repeat, a stranger ... awkward! Is that what I get for waking up in Vegas? Apparently so ...
Last week, I joined the NASCARnival to Viva Las Vegas, and, once there, I proceeded to wake up every morning not spooning a stranger, not married or broke, and not hung over ... surprisingly. In fact, I was in Vegas for three nights before I realized I had yet to even set foot in a nightclub.
I did, however, go to see the dolphins in Siegfried and Roy's Secret Garden, got a massage at the new Aria spa, went to an MMA fight, fine dined and saw a show ... wait, am I getting old? Or, is it that I just know I can go to a nightclub in Charlotte and have just as much fun?
Sure, Vegas has the most glittery and glamorous nightlife, but Charlotte has nice clubs, good DJs, hot bartenders and wild patrons too. Cason-Point: The nightlife is just as lively in Charlotte as it is in Vegas. What happens in Vegas ... can happen in Charlotte, too. Because, it's not where you are, it's who you're with that really counts.
There is one major difference, however -- there's no last call in Vegas. When I eventually did go to a nightclub, I went to Pure in Caesar's Palace and, just to clarify, no, the real Caesar did not live there. I knew it was time to go home when I looked down at my phone (because who uses a watch to tell time anymore) and found myself saying, "It's 6 a.m. in my real life!"
Speaking of which, what happens to the time you lose when you switch time zones? Does it go into a time savings account? Because time is money and I'd kinda like those hours back in my bank.
But one thing I don't get about Vegas is why the street swindlers kept trying to give me brochures for prostitutes. Do I look like a lesbian that can't get any? At least now I know Vegas has slut, as well as slot machines.