Two handfuls of visits and twenty-nine years of living as neighbors, can you believe I never “experienced” Vegas?
Strolling the Vegas Strip sober with family, trotting through the club to wrangle talent for red carpet photos, and professionally greeting guests at a registration table does not qualify as experiencing Vegas.
Indulging in crazy Vegas trip(s) is done in your twenties, right? Not for me. I’m extraordinary. My first Vegas experience happened five days after crossing the border to thirty.
Cue Beyonce’s 7/11. Vegas at thirty included: accidental kidnapping by valet, bath tubs posing as refrigerated alcohol storage centers, lost luggage, discovering hotel-rented scooter chairs, over-intoxicated and undernourished friends spazzing out, burning balls (feet) trudging through the club, recorded videos singing chants from the college days, seducing mannequins, seemingly choreographed routines (grand entrances) to Jay Z music, endless jokes, laughs for days, and “spinning while my hands up.”
Below see photos from my crazy, entertaining and epic Vegas trip. Click images to enlarge.
Thanks for reading.
Hugs,
Roshell
