viva las vegas

I almost did something in Vegas that was t-shirt worthy. After an evening of incessant blackjack flirting, the CEO of a company you've probably heard of, took me to an exclusive club. We drank and danced. Made out, and oohhed and ahhhhed at the Strip from the balcony of the 62nd floor. He was the epitome of the Pretty Woman version of Richard Gere. Stunningly attractive, successful President of an up and coming company, and a buyer and seller of businesses, complete with a self-professed complicated life--all rolled up into a man who definitely made me feel nothing less than Julia Robertsesque.
So we're totally mugging down, groping, giggling...having an out and out blast funtime extraordiare...and I bust out with---and I'm not kidding, yours truly, in her infinite wisdom, asked the following:
and I quote "do you pay for sex?"
WHAT?
IN THE NAME OF VISHNU
MADE ME SAY THAT?
oh hell, I was all caught up in that pretty woman setting...plus I was half drunk. Needless to say, I didn't end up going to Laguna to spend a couple days with him at the Montage, as originally discussed. I felt bad and apologized, but he was over me within a split second.
I spent the rest of my trip in a swanky suite, helping tend to my beautiful angel baby nephew. I did manage to find my way to the topless pool (see photo) and to a couple exhibits and a short Huey Lewis and the News concert...Sorry for the upside down booby, but you know how challenged I am in the editing department. we're lucky we even have this. No lie, though, some person I don't even know took this pic and sent it with her phone, so that I'd have SOMETHING to commemorate the occassion.