It is our third night in Las Vegas.
Because Vegas is less than four-hours from our home, we visit Vegas pretty often, at least a couple times a year, sometimes with family or friends and sometimes just the two of us. This visit, however, we have quite a large party with us, including 30 teenagers from the robotics team who we transported to Vegas in four rental mini vans.
Last night, due to robot changes and modifications, some of the team had to stay behind and we made the decision to split up. Each van was to be responsible for their own eating arrangements and entertainment. Although we only had two and half hours before room check, our van decided to take a whirlwind tour of the strip.
We parked at New York, New York, saw the lions in the MGM Grand, ate crepes in the Paris, and watched the fountain show in front of Bellagio. We ended our quick strip tour at the Aladdin, for the sole purpose of visiting the make-up mecca, Sephora.
If there is a place to take teenage girls, it is Sephora. They—and I—went bonkers with turquoise eye shadow, purple mascara, all sorts of face glitter, bright pink blush, and lots of shiny lip gloss. Even the boys joined in, sampling the Federic Fekkai hair products and expensive colognes.
By time we left, just in time to make curfew, the girls looked like Vegas showgirls and the boys smelled like the men that pick up on Vegas showgirls in seedy bars.
I think one boy had mascara on.
I, myself, had created a sensational oceanic display on my eyelids; purples and teals and shimmering silver glitter three inches thick, which I accented with pink blush and super-shine pink lipstick.
We arrived back at the hotel at 10:30 on the dot, phenomenal considering that our hotel is in the middle of nowhere, miles and miles away from the strip to keep the teenagers from the sin and indulgence promoted by the contemptible and wicked Las Vegas tourism industry. (I, of course, love all things contemptible and wicked, but I don’t make the hotel reservations.)
As we entered the hotel lobby, giggling and carrying on, it suddenly occurred to me that the lobby was full of people.
Yay. The parents have arrived.
What a pleasure to meet you. I don't usually, um, look like this.