I'm a bit of a cocktail geek, and last year I found my mecca: Vesper at the Cosmo. Top-notch craft drinks by talented, knowledgeable bartenders, 24 hours a day. The tenders were attentive and friendly (if extremely busy) and the drinks were all great. There was only one problem: Miss Fancypants. I should probably note that I looked classy; I was wearing a black suit, red tie, and a panama hat, and smoking a meerschaum pipe, so maybe I looked like I was really greened-up. A woman walks up and hops onto the next stool. She was in her mid-20s, absolutely gorgeous, dressed to the nines, short mini-skirt, just a visual knock-out, though her perfume was so potent I could taste it in my drink. (I'm tempted to use that puke smiley!) Perfume in moderation, wonderful, but... Immediately, she began hitting on me, and hitting HARD (she was appropriately vague about what she was suggesting we do together). For the record, I was quite flattered, but I've got a boyfriend at home and, though if I were single I might ask out a girl like that, not only was I very happily taken and have never been the slightest bit into cheating, but I'm not keen on gettin' it on with somebody to whom I'm "another day, another dollar," no matter how classy and pretend-attentive she may be, especially when she's marinated in sweet fragrance. I tried every angle I could think of to say 'no,' from a beginning 'no, thank you,' to telling her I was taken ("He doesn't have to know," "What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas"), telling her I wasn't interested in that kind of business-relationship (she insisted she'd be different), I tried telling her I was a different kind of taken and showed her a leather collar with a little padlock on my neck (in my case, doesn't carry the BDSM connotation but I suggested that it did*, but she told me she was a "professional dominatrix" who could "unlock" me) and, finally, I told her I'm gay (half-true, to which she insisted she was so good, I'd love it anyway!) I finally tired of the 'how many steps until she gets it' method and began giving her fullstop nos, which she also refused to accept, still laying it on a mile thick! Finally, her cell phone rang, she took it, hopped up, and walked away chatting blithely with what I can only assume was some regular customer. The tender told me, "This is HER bar. No one else works it." He did share a story he found extremely funny, in which she, asking a mark where he was from, told him she once was a nurse there; when he asked about the local sports team and she was confused, he realized she was BSing, laughed in her face and left. *For those who're actually into the slave/master thing, if someone is 'collared' and you get too pushy on them, chances are their owner will get extremely angry at you. It's a huge breach of etiquette. As noted, my collar means something else. But if she was a real pro-domme, she'd quit the instant she saw that lock. So, to the point: Next time I'm in LV, I'll be back at the Vesper. If I get approached there, or anywhere else, by one of these high-class-looking types who refuse to accept "no," is there anything I can say to make them leave me the f**k alone? I've since realized it might have worked if I'd told her that her perfume stunk; maybe an insult would make her shut up, whether or not it made her leave? I'd rather make her leave than be forced to leave myself. I find it amusing, nonetheless, that she was so extremely pushy that we go on a date, to the point of even overriding "I'm not single" and even "I'm not into girls in the slightest"!