Sorry for the delay on this installment, I got my butt kicked with homework this weekend, but I am in good shape now and more will be forthcoming. Now on to the main event... So we head over to the Palms. Let me first say that I was not at all excited to go there after hearing all the rumors about "the beautiful people" that "take over" the place. While I am not unattractive, I do not qualify as one of those people. I have had no surgical intervention, and I have a brain that I do not try to hide from people. However, because Bliss was a Virgin it was her trip and so off I went. Upon arriving we saw this incredibly long line to get into Ghostbar. Since the people we were meeting hadn't arrived yet we decided we'd just get in line until they arrived and then I'd see what I could do to by-pass the line I must interject some observations I have from my 20 minute waiting-for-people line experience. First off, if those were the "Beautiful People" then our country is full of scarily ugly people. I now question the judgment of those who feel that those people were somehow "more" than the rest of us. While I did see a few very georgeous people who I would deem fit for that moniker, for the most part all I saw in the casino, exiting the clubs, and by-passing the lines were just average to low-average looking people. Next, after reviewing the parade of "fashion" around that place, I must ask myself-and indeed at one point couldn't resist asking one of the offenders personally-Don't you have a mirror in your room? I know you pass several in any hotel, don't you bother to look? Holy-I have never seen so many people wearing things that they plainly should not inflict on the general public. Here is the best descriptive example I can give of the situation and it also happens to be the girl I chased down to ask the above question of. Picture if you will a 45ish woman. Weight approximately 210 pounds. Height, approximately 5'2" (I'm 5'4" and she was shorter than me). Workout schedule-once, maybe 10 years ago. Tan: about 200 hours spent in the sun this month (picture the leather lady in Something about Mary). Wardrobe: You'll love this: A white THONG, White pleather CHAPS, neon-green BRA, white MESH half-shirt (of the old 80's variety), and 4 1/2 in gold stiletto shoes, not worn at the time I saw her (too high I guess). Makeup: Foundation about 2 shades too light for her over-tan, Kelly Green eyeshadow, Electric blue eyeliner, false eyelashes (not always bad, but when you can spot them from 100 paces they are hideous), and the piece de resistance...bright orange lipstick. WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING!!!!!! When I asked her if she had a mirror in her room she said she did. I then asked her if she bothered to look in it before she left her room. Her response? Why should I? I know I look hot. UUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!!! Sorry, back to the story. So our other people show up and I wander over to the rope guard outside of the hallway you must go down to pay cover and then wait for the elevator. Amazingly enough this guy is someone I had met on a previous trip to Mecca. Even more amazing is that he remembers me-even my name (don't let your imaginations run too wild-he was a bouncer at Rumjungle who I conned into thinking I was a VIP). Well now, this is going to be easier than I thought. A few pleasantries ensued and my party (of 5) entered, by-passed the cover and headed directly to the elevator. Up we go into the foreign territory of Ghostbar. Immediately upon arrival we belly-up (that's literal in my case) to the bar and get our vodka cranberries. The bartender was infatuated with Bliss and offered to upgrade our Vodka-of course we took him up on that! Don't know what he used but it sure was nice! It is time to mingle. We talk to anyone who looks remotely drunk, meet a lot of people, and decide to head outside. Once there we turn left and head down to the lower area where-low and behold there are seats open. Blessed be the club gods, because those Tropical-Death-Bombs are still playing havoc with us and the vodka is doing it's part as well. After sitting for a few minutes and chatting with anyone close enough for me to gain the attention of, a couple of very nice looking boys come over, notice that we are without beverage in our cups, and offer to buy us more. Nice. Now we're on post-Tropical-Death-Bomb alcoholic beverage #2 and we're feeling really good. We head up the steps to the main outdoor area and fight our way up to the "front" where the "glass" floor is. You'd have thought it was a free N'Synch concert at a middle school the way people were jockying for position. Upon arrival we take in the view, decide this isn't our kind of place and proceed down to Rain. Some guys our friends had met were on the list so no waiting and I didn't have to work my butt off to by-pass the line either. All I can say about this place is; if you lose the people you came in with you will never find them again. I have never seen so many damn people packed in like sardines at a club. And I've been to plenty. Anyway, the best way I can describe most of the patrons is to note that the majority of the boys were frat-types and a majority of the girls were-slut types (did I say that?). The vibe we got was one in which it felt like many of the girls were there to sink their claws into one of the frat-boys who they thought had good jobs or monied families. I came to this conclusion by listening to way too many conversations along this line while waiting to pee. These are not necessarily the type of people I'm attracted to, but luckily for me I met a very nice young man who happened to be a pro snowboarder. We had great conversation and great drinks. Sadly, he had to leave and meet one of his friends, and I was not able to go since I am a married woman. After awhile I decided I couldn't deal with all of the "meat inspection" going on so I began to randomly walk up to guys and say things like.."Hi, I have a brain are you at all interested in that?" Funny, but most of them responded with "Thank God" or "You bet I'm interested in that." Very funny in my drunken world. It is now approaching 3 am and the lethal combination of Tropical-Death-Bombs and vodka has created an otherworldly hunger in both Bliss and I. We head back to the Trop and decide to chow-down at the cafe in MGM. Because we left before the "rush" we were seated right away, next to the windows that overlook the line for seating. At the time we didn't think much about this, but after ordering our omlettes and beginning to chow, as only drunk people do, we notice that there are an awful lot of people staring at us. I felt like a fish. Now, let us all be honest here, when you're drunk the way you consume food is neither dainty nor delicate. This was not good for us, but apparently was for those in line because several of them were laughing their butts off. One person must have had the fish idea too, because he started tapping on the glass. Well, many people came in and, as I'm sure you've guessed by now, I decided to talk to all of them. Plans were made for the following day that were never going to be kept, phone numbers were offered which I'm sure were bogus, offers to accompany people to their rooms were thrown about like used Kleenex. All in all it was very entertaining, but the Tropical-Death-Bombs and vodka caught up and it was time for bed, so we left the cafe with many sad farewells, it was 4:30. The trek back to the Trop was made bearable by all of the amusing people we bumped into along the way. A man and his wife asked if they could come to our room with us since they were really into "lesbians." WTF we're both talking to boys and now were lesbians. Instead of laughing, I gave them tips on spotting real lesbian couples and continued along the way. After many more encounters with cute boys who offered to buy us breakfast (where were they an hour ago?) and/or accompany us to our room (or have us accompany them to their rooms), we finally made it back to our room and into our beds. 6 am and nighty night sin & Bliss!!!