02 May 2008

Where's Wayne Newton?

I just got back from a trade show in Las Vegas.

And by just got back, I mean that four other of the Walking Wounded and I crawled off a red eye at 7:30 this morning after 25 straight sleepless hours.
Dragging ourselves through the Atlanta airport at 5:30 this morning just as other freshly scrubbed and pressed travelers were beginning their days we must have looked like a reenactment of Dawn of the Dead....

Have I mentioned how unglamorous business travel is?

But it was Vegas, Baby! Yeah! And I did, actually, enjoy several to-die-for meals on the company's dime. Sa-weet!

Throughout the week, between "working the booth" at the trade show - go ahead and say "Booth Bimbo," I know you want to - and gaining 5 lbs. I made an effort to take a good, hard look at Las Vegas... which is NEVER a good idea.

If I see one more happy, thin, attractive, hip young couple crawling down each others throats while standing in line at Starbucks, waiting to cross the street or riding the escalator (no, that is NOT a euphemism) I am going to hurl my old, married, unhip* ass off the roof of the Hooters Hotel.

Suggested alternative tag lines to "What Happens Here Stays Here":
PDA Capital of the World
It's Like Disney But With Hookers
We Won't Look at You in Daylight if You Don't Look at Us
Providing Grounds for Divorce Since 1890
Vegas: The Bedazzler-Studded Jean Jacket of American Cities
We Are to America What Mascara Was to Tammy Faye

*Funny-ish Story:
After being drug around a casino -by my younger-than-me, European boss - in search of dinner, the group (including "Sarah" the only person besides me over 35) finally settled in at eatery, ordered drinks and was immediately informed that we were getting up and leaving because said boss had found a "much better" place to hang.
I looked at him and said, "Mushroom Cloud**, Sarah and I are staying right here."
"But this other place is much hipper."
"I have news for you. I am not hip. I may NEED a hip at some point in the near future, but I am not hip. We're happy here. Y'all go have fun."
And he just wandered away. Totally unfamiliar with the concept of not caring if you're cool. It was deLISH.
** We call him Mushroom Cloud because the aroma/odor of his cologne arrives at your office door 5 minutes before he does. One of his peers, a fellow Director, came up with the name and threatened to buy a bottle of the same expensive cologne for our janitor at work. "How cool will you be when you and Meth Mike are wearing the same foo-foo juice?" Brilliant.

2 comments:

Country Girl said...

Okay, you're the man. There is NO WAY I could ever function through this...I had FORGOTTEN about worrying if you were cool or not.

fatboyfat said...

Count yourself lucky. For my business trips, I get to go to places like Wolverhampton and listen to people theorising on the merits of line-manager communication techniques.