Day nine

Day nine, July 17, 2011

I know, I know, you don't have to tell me, I've been slacking.  I'm sorry I let you all down and didn't provide any entertainment for the past two days.  You had to have known that Vegas was going to be quite the interruption.  So ladies and gentlemen, put on your seat belts and enjoy the ride! =D

 The day has finally arrived!!!! Vegas tonight baby!!  We are all anticipating the bright lights and twenty four  hour non stop partying, but first we must finish experiencing Arizona.  We began the day with a river raft tour of the Colorado River.  To Matt's surprise there were no white caps, no helmets or life jackets, and no hazardous conditions.  The  raft rode peacefully through the river at a gentle pace.  Too bad he boasted about his "White Water Rafting" tour to all his friends.  We weren't sure if Matt booked his own rafting trip without informing us. Sadly, he jumped to conclusions when he heard it was a "raft" tour. In order to reach the beginning of the river tour we had to board a bus and travel through a tunnel to the bottom of the canyon.  Traveling at about fifteen miles an hour, it took approximately five minutes to  reach the end of the pitch black tunnel.  Now, I'm pretty sure a PhD is not required to estimate the length of the tunnel.  Apparently, in Matt's case it is. For all of you who know Matt, I'm sure you can hear him in your head when reading this next quote.  "I'd say the tunnel was probably about 500 feet long. Yes, 500 feet sounds about right".  Five hundred feet my ass!! Lord knows the tunnel was longer than two football fields. Maybe this was a "ya had to be there moment" but the three musketeers got a nice laugh out of that one. (Michael Richard, you would have died if you'd been there.  I hope you at least got a chuckle from that comment!). 

Of course, we made friends with people on our raft!  This time, they didn't realize we were friends.  As soon as we boarded the raft, J leaned over to me and whispered "I'm calling it right now, I am not going to like that woman". Low and behold, she didn't, especially after the third asinine question rolled off her tongue before leaving the dock.  J and I decided we must name the family, and name them we did!  The dad was easy; J didn't even think twice about Earl.  Mama bear on the other hand was difficult to pin point.  We started with Frances, then moved onto Abigail and finally, the deal was sealed with Bertha.  Oh Big Bertha, hair-cut straight out of the 80s-mullet style- cut off t shirt, and thunder thighs galore, she became our entertainment for the remainder of the morning.  Bertha and Earl were proud parents of four little ducklings, Hank, Frances, Abigail (also known as Abby), and last but not least Tiny Tim.  What an interesting family we encountered.  Jen and I giggled like two flaming homosexuals for the majority of the first half of the tour.  People watching is a fond pastime of ours.  Astonishingly, we heard Bertha call out to one of her ducklings "Abby, stop it!", we were right on the money with that one.  Tim, our captain, (not to be confused with Tiny Tim), was not much of a fan of Bertha and co either.  After a dozen or so stupid questions that he could only answer in a deadpan tone, I believe Bertha got the hint that she should keep her questions and comments to herself.  It is unfortunate that we didn't become real friends with Bertha and family because we were poorly prepared for our journey down the Colorado River.  Every person on our raft had sandwiches, snacks, and/or water packed.  The only thing we brought was ourselves and the camera.  We also did not prepare for the temperature either.  Arising to 80 degree, weather, we assumed shorts and t shirts/tank tops would be appropriate attire.  We forgot to think about the fact that we'd be a thousand feet deep in a canyon where sunlight does not always hit, surrounded by 47 degree water and on a raft.  We were shivering our tushes off!

After three hours of staring at rocks, clay and shrubbery- I mean, really awesome rocks, clay and shrubbery- we took our famished selves to lunch.  Zapata's mexican and Italian restaurant was our choice and it did not disappoint.  Kel, our enthusiastic waiter, convinced us that Mexican was the way to go, especially because complimentary chips and salsa were served.  Kel was a huge fan of the salsa, he kept repeating "I don't know, I think we got the salsa just right!  If you have any suggestions on how to better the salsa feel free to throw in your two cents!".  I hope that as an employee, Kel receives unlimited salsa.  He was a great waiter and might possibly love his job more than Matt loves Herold's.  It is a close call and we're still waiting to hear from the judges.  

Leftovers packed for a snack later and it was time to head to the Grand Canyon.  Besides speed racer Jen taking the wheel for quite some time, it was basically an uneventful ride.  After miles and miles of open land, the Grand Canyon fell into our laps out of no where.  We finally got to see nature at its finest.  Words cannot describe the Grand Canyon.  With one wrong step this open pit could swallow you up in the blink of an eye.  Being a risk taker and all, I hiked down a small hill and stood out on a rock while Matt watched in horror and came close to soiling his pants.  Mom, you can stop worrying because clearly, I live to tell the story!  On our way to our next look out, we observed a car looking deep into the woods.  They informed us that there was a moose a ways back.  We flipped that b*tch and searched for the moose.  To our bewilderment, the Colorado natives seemed to confuse an elk with a moose.  I may be wrong with this assumption, but if you are from Colorado, shouldn't you know the difference between an elk and a moose?! Just saying...  We were ok with seeing the elk, he had quite a rack on him!  Speaking of animals, mules are a source of transportation to reach the Colorado River at the bottom of the Canyon.  Matt commented that if we to ever voyage down there his mule would not be too fond of him!  But then suddenly remembered that Dad rode a mule down to the rivers end and his mule would have no problem accomplishing it.  Hmm...I can't say I ever recall Dad riding a mule or traveling down the Grand Canyon.  I swear, this kid either has a rapid fire imagination or the most vivid dreams that he convinces himself they are fact.  Well, since we are still on the topic of animals, I'd like to supply everyone with a  fun fact from Matthew, don't be too concerned if you smell a skunk because it could be up to two miles away.  That stank knows how to travel!

We checked a few more things off our bucket list, and with dollar signs in our eyes we booked it to Vegas!   I was slaving over the blog in the backseat when I was suddenly blinded by the bright lights of the infamous Las Vegas! I sped through the remainder of the blog in order to be prepared to take it all in.  As we approached Las Vegas Boulevard it was love at first sight.  I was head over heels for this place they call Sin City and couldn't imagine parting with it. My eyes were glued to the window as I gawked at all of the casinos, hotels, and inebriated people carrying souvenir glasses taller than most toddlers.  I must admit, I was quite overwhelmed, and this virgin found her heartbeat quickening by the second.  

After touring the strip for the first time, we made it to the hotel, unpacked, changed, and hit the town!  How do I even begin to give you the run down of events from our first night.  I guess it's best to just start from the beginning, Treasure Island.  We entered Kahunaville-yes, Grandpa, a bar named after you!-and $92.00 later we were each departing with a two foot drink in hand.  Woah nelly!  I suggest we bring "yards" back to Jersey!  Snookie would have a field day with those!  Vegas, similar to New Orleans, is all about bevs on the street!  It's a total free for all and we took advantage.  As we were wandering the strip, we passed a lady handing out wrist bands, shouting "free drinks until 4 am!". Well, you must be delusional if you were to pass up that offer.  We slapped those wrist bands on and entered Planet Hollywood on a mission.  As we approached Koi, with our four empty yards in hand, the host explained to us that only ladies drink for free.  Luckily, at this point we were only one yard deep and were still considered "ladies", therefore free drinks still apply.  The downfall of this plan was the cover charge, twenty bucks a person and drinks for guys were thirteen dollars a piece!!  Since the oh-so-kind lady didn't inform us of the cover charge the host allowed us to only pay for three entry fees.  Jen and I approached the bar with pink solo cups in hand, the only cups free drinks were permitted in, and were greeted by the drunk bartender.  As we were ordering our drinks, Rob and Matt took a lap around the bar to see what was hopping.  It was soon apparent why ladies drink for free.  This yeah-big club was not too populated at this time.  Oh well,  we still had to take advantage of our free drinks and the fact that it cost sixty dollars to enter.  We found a small nook where we could quickly pass the drinks off to Rob and Matt who downed them like veterans.  

After three rounds, we took our Adios MoFo's (aka an LIT made with blue curaçao, aka death in a cup) and made our way up the strip.  There was a destination in mind, but as we are thinking about it today, our memories seem to have escaped us.  Oops...New York, New York is where we ended up.  Before arriving at NY, NY, Roberto came up with a phrase that needs to be patented ASAP.  The term is BOS, standing for Black Out Status.  Feel free to spread this far and wide, but do NOT forget where you heard it from originally.  Here are a couple of ways "BOS" can be used: "I know I was  BOS last night after being informed that I fell asleep on my dog's bed and was convinced it was mine". Or, "The girl with her melon hanging out is hardcore BOS!". We are hoping to make this a worldwide phrase so please do your best to pass this on to children and adults of all ages and races.  

The reason this phrase was invented was due to the fact that Jen finished her yard full of long  island ice tea along with a couple other drinks and was beginning to get a little hazy.  Ricker, our loving cousin, was the lucky winner of our 2 am pacific time phone call.  Undoubtedly, he was sleeping, so Robert decided this was voicemail worthy and explained our new term.  Because Rick is always on top of his game, he returned our belligerent phone call within minutes and received a mouthful about our Vegas antics thus far.  He gave BOS two thumbs up, and after some jibber-jabber decided it was time to go back to sleep, seeing that it was about 5 am eastern standard time.  After a couple more casinos I hailed my first taxi ever and  began our trip home with Mark, our taxi driver.  Matt sat in the front seat and Jen, Rob and I stumbled into the back seat.  Little did Robert know when he coined the term "BOS" at the beginning of evening that he would be the one bearing the BOS crown.  Window down, and pasty face sticking out, Rob concentrated on keeping the contents of the evening within his stomach.  Jen and I entertained Mark on the way back with tales of the evening. His laughter filled the taxi throughout the entire ride home.   I'm gonna go out on a limb and say we were his favorite riders of the day.  We arrived at our hotel and Robert jetted off to the right.  "Roberto, what are you doing?" "Oh, don't worry, I'll just meet you upstairs."  "Why?! Just come with us". "I just wanna go puke by the bubble real quick!". Needless to say, we would not allow him to blow chunks by the bubble and quickly led him up to the room.  

Once in the room, we realized that it was entirely too hot, and we would be unable to sleep in these conditions.  Earlier in the evening we had trouble locating the thermostat.  Matt advised us that all of the rooms are set to a standard temperature and we must call the front desk in order to change the setting.  So, of course, he told us again that we must call the front desk.  I put on my professional drunk voice, (the same one used when inquiring about the pool), and called the front desk.  "Hi, I'm calling from room 324, now, I know that all of the rooms are kept at the same temperature and I was wondering if you could lower our temperature?". "Ma'am, you control your own thermostat in each individual room, we have no control at the front desk."  "Ohhh, ok!  Thanks!". Once again, I must have made someone's night and was probably talked about the following day...or maybe five days.  We LMAO'ed for a long while when we located the thermostat behind the door.  

After the air conditioning fiasco, I decided I had to get out of my outfit and into my pajamas.  While attempting to strip my leggings off and trying to convince Matt that I was not drunk, I lost my balance and crashed into my luggage.  Leggings at my ankles and flat on my back like a turtle on his shell, I decided I may have had one too many to drink and in fact was quite silly.  I was laughing so much I couldn't even get myself up.  I was then helped up by Matt and finished changing into pj's.  Following this disaster, I moved on into the bathroom.  I don't know about anyone else, but I love to have solo photo shoots when I am drunk (or even sober sometimes).  Camera in hand I began snapping away.  I tend do the kissy face, or sometimes a seductive look, or I show my grills!  All of a sudden I was caught!  Jen walked in on my one man photo shoot.  Naturally she joined in for a few pictures, we are still unsure whether we are going to release those to the public.  Upon exiting the bathroom, we are greeted by Robert, snuggled up on the pull out with a Yankees beach towel keeping him warm.  Whatever floats your boat Rob, way to use your resources.  As far as we can recall, those were the events of evening number one.  Stay tuned for day two.  Peace, love, and happiness, The Nomads.