So if you read my last story of Vegas, you’ll be up to speed on the debauchery. if you haven’t read it then go read it. I’ll wait.
After our terrible wonderful ordeal with the lovely Dwayne, we headed back to civilization aka Caesars palace. Once there we decided to take a break from being hungover/still drunk and watching endless hours of VH1 dating shows and go get some Zza. (thats what we call pizza in “the biz” the biz of what, i really couldn’t tell you.)
Jenna and I went on an adventure while Jess slept it off. If you have ever been to Vegas you probably understand this: finding specific places in Vegas is like seeing a unicorn. its beautiful and special, but you can’t find it again within the next 24 hours. We stumbled upon a pizza place the day before so we assumed we could stumble upon it again. we were wrong. well we weren’t really wrong but by the time we rolled up (4 a.m.) that shits was closed.
we admitted defeat and started walking back to our room. this is where it gets weird. We passed two dudes playing slots who called us over to talk. I don’t really know why i decided to go talk to them. maybe i was delirious from lack of Zza. maybe it was their all white suits and the fact that one of them looked like Cedric the entertainer. either way, i thought “hey, its probably a good idea to go to talk to these black dudes at 4 in the morning”
it was wrong of me, and i will be the first person to admit it.
So we go over and talk to them and one was named Jimmy. I assume the other one was named Cedric the entertainer. So Jimmy asks where we’re from and what we’re doing, pretty standard. He then proceeds to tell me I’m beautiful (obviously) and then he….well, he smelled me. He smelled me you guys. A black guy in a white suit smelled me. I’m talking full on sniffed at me like a dog while i could only stare at Jenna in a wordless horror.
Ok, i have a theory i would like to share and it might seem a little racist. I think that black men will do fucked up shit to white girls because they know they will put up with more because they wont want to appear racist. its the same way you would think twice before backhanding a man in a wheelchair. unless you are my friend Derek, then you just go for the gusto.
Am i totally out of line with this theory? I cant be, mainly because if a white guy smelled me for an extended period of time i would tell him to go fuck himself. unless he was part dog or some shit. ok, i would let the wolfman smell me. anyways i am getting really off track here.
The point is: a grown man smelled me and told me i smelled like sugar ( i told him it was pert) he sniffed my hair and skin and i felt like a victim of buffalo bill from silence of the lambs. was this guy going to make a kicky ensemble out of my skin? who could know. Now im not against black dudes, i just have a strict “don’t smell me please” policy which i feel spans all colours and nations. Also, these guys were from Zambia or some shit and im pretty sure they were drug dealers.
As this nostril raping was occurring, Cedric the entertainer was trying to wheel Jenna by asking her what we were doing and whatnot, when she said we were trying to find pizza he offered to take us both out for a meal.
more specifically, to McDonalds.
As we later discussed in the elevator back to our rooms, the first thought that went through Jennas mind as this offer was made was “oh gross, McDonalds” the first thought in my mind was “don’t go with an attacker to a second location” I mean, who knows what this guy would want to smell if he had me cornered in a McDonalds washroom. I shudder to think.
I tried to weasel out of Jimmys grasp who was by this point positioned behind me with his hands over my hands in front of me in the classic douche couple pose for sears portraits. There was only one problem. he wasn’t my douchey boyfriend and we weren’tgetting our picture taken by a 40 year old woman named Susan. People were passing us and the guys that walked past were laughing at our situation but the women walked past with an unmistakable look on their faces. and that look said “i have been there”
I knew we had to make a break for it but there was really no way to escape without looking like total racist bitches. So we did what any normal woman would do and that was give them a fake room number and told them to meet up with us later. So if you were on floor 15 in room 28, I’m Sorry. I’m really sorry