As my wife paid this steroid, taking, Adonis, looking kid to give me a lap dance as part of my attempt to rectify a bet and inform women on entertainment in Las Vegas, I nearly lost my stomach. This guy nearly lost a few things from his spandex thong as he danced inches from my nose.
This all started out innocent enough with a bet my wife had made about bachelorette parties being the next big thing in Las Vegas. Essentially, she was of the opinion that there were more women enjoying a last night out than men these days. Her exact quote was, Women wear the pants in most households these days so they have been liberated to the point of seeking out adult entertainment. Yes, they in fact want to leave the kids and the husbands at home for a night of girl fun.
I agreed that women want to have fun, but the idea that just because I sit at home everyday I dont wear the pants, well, I dont think so. She insisted she could find more women having bachelorette parties in Las Vegas than men and that I should focus a bit more on entertainment for the women.
To make this long story elementary and shorter, she was right. The male species had let me down as she was able to find fifteen groups of women in celebratory state, I could only muster up six bachelors. The women had taken over Las Vegas so I agreed to focus a bit more on women and their needs and I had to agree to a night on the town with my wife and a few of her friends.
So the night started with me having to sit through a show with the men from Australia and the "Thunder from Downunder", at the Excalibur. This was partial payback as I had explained that I had sat with an employee from the Olympic Gardens that happened to be Australian. I explained that as part of my research it was necessary that I engage in conversations with the women of the gentlemens clubs. At the time she did not seem to mind, but frankly, I really did not feel the need to hear a beefy guy whisper into my ear, Youre a bit of a cute bloke.
She loved it as did her friends.
Lucky for me she did not invite anyone over to our table, but I can see why the lovely Australian at the Olympic Gardens left her homeland, these guys get a bit too sweaty for my taste. Really, who shaves their chest like that?
As that show ended we barely had any time to negotiate an end to the evening as we were quick to get to our next show, Men: the Show. Initially I thought we were headed to a version of Comedy Centrals The Man Show, but unfortunately it was nowhere near that. Not a single girl on trampolines in the place. I believe beer was also non-existent. From what I was told, the Apple martinis were good. I tried to bathe myself in the drunken state that is so delivered by my friend Johnny Walker.