Y'all, I met some Playboy Bunnies.
When I booked a room at the Fantasy Springs Resort Hotel and Casino for Lauren, Monty, Will and I, I didn't know that a Bunny Meet and Greet would be taking place in the hotel casino. We were going for Will and Monty's triathlon in La Quinta, which is, you know, fun and all, but when Lauren emailed to say that we were ALSO gonna meet Bunnies I JUST KNEW that the eight hour car trip was going to be so worth it.
However, I almost didn't meet the Playboy Bunnies at all. Let me tell you about that.
First, I almost didn't meet the Playboy Bunnies because of Will and Monty. Despite the fact that there were Playboy Bunnies in the casino, Will and Monty were mainly concerned with eating massive amounts of pasta so they would be carb loaded for the race. We drove all over Palm Springs area to find an Olive Garden, which was (a) breaking my cardinal travel rule, no chain restaurants on vacation, and (b) making us super late for the Playboy Party.
(So, yo! I just want to reiterate that the boys were more interested in cheap ravioli than Playboy centerfolds. I seriously do not know what that was all about.)
Second, I almost didn't meet the Playboy Bunnies because by the time we returned from Olive Garden, the Bunny line was closed and the hotel had some bouncer turning people away. And, he so did not care that I just drove eight hours. So, I did what any good blogger would do and I started sweet-talking my way into the party. I bypassed the hotel bouncer, who clearly had no authority, and made friends instead with the more influential-looking guy wearing a Playboy Bunny lapel pin.
Mark is my Homeboy.
I explained to Mark that I needed to meet a Bunny because, hello! I am a blogger! I need to blog about this experience! With photos! Mark didn't even know what a blogger was, so he wasn't at all that impressed with that routine. I quickly changed my angle and fortuitously discovered that Mark used to be a triathlete. Hey! My husband is a triathlete! And Mark rode a Felt racing bicycle. Which, OMG! So does my husband!
Lo! I was under the velvet ropes in no time!
I waited patiently behind two cowboys who had brought their own copies of Playboy for the Bunnies to autograph.
Everybody else had to choose between meeting one Bunny or the other, but since I was the last person in line I pushed my luck and visited both. Mark didn't seem to care because he was over talking to Will about riding bicycles and nobody else seemed to be monitoring the situation now that all the creepy guys with mullets were gone. So, I met Ms. February and Ms. March, who each signed a copy of their respective centerfolds with "hugs and kisses" and XOXOs.
Will may have been initially more interested in unlimited salad and breadsticks, but he wasn't completely unimpressed with the Bunnies.
Maybe I should frame my centerfolds and hang them alongside my Bill Clinton autograph. I think he'd approve.