I'm not very PC.

On Friday The Girlfriend took me on a super secret surprise date. I got home from work and was told to pack an overnight bag. Emily spent the night at a friend's house.

We drop Emily off and get on the road. After about three hours, we end up in Laughlin, Nevada. It was awesome! I had no idea, and The Girlfriend pulled it off beautifully. She made reservations at a hotel, told me what to pack in my bag, got good prices, everything. It was, simply, awesome. I've been desperately needing time away from real life and this was the perfect thing. And, to add to it, to be able to spend that time away from real life with The Girlfriend was awesome.

Real life has a tendency of weighing down on us, as I'm sure it does on all people. Like, oh shit, we've been so busy doing all the things that need to be done that we haven't had a kiss longer than four seconds in two weeks. That kind of stuff. And frankly, it sucks. I'm thrilled that we got to go to Laughlin, because neither of us had any worries. I was so thrilled to have a night to just the two of us, so thrilled that it was a night we were just focused on each other, and in a place that was away from the small town in which we live, that I couldn't shut up about it. Because in our small town, you can't go ANYWHERE without seeing five+ people that you know. It was wonderful not to have to pretend to be interested in other conversation. It was wonderful to just be with her.

We started out walking down "the strip" just looking at the different places. I guess this place is supposed to be a mini Las Vegas. Size wise, if Las Vegas was as big as a 44 oz drink, Laughlin would be a half a shot. But it was still awesome.

We began walking to the start of the strip to a casino called The Riverside, which is where Natalie works. We stayed there for about two hours looking for Nat and playing some slots, but the amount of creepy men was a little overwhelming. So we meandered next door to The Aquarius, where I made ten dollars turn in to two hundred dollars and got carded about twelve times. From there we did the River Walk (all the casinos are on the Colorado River, and there's a walk that connects them all). It was beautiful. It was about midnight and there were ducks, and fish, and all sorts of couples standing dreamily with their arms around each other's backs. We stopped in at Edgewater, but left pretty quickly. The Girlfriend got on a blackjack table and didn't win anything, but didn't lose anything. I wanted to go to The Colorado Belle, but it was getting late and I also wanted to get back to our room. How cool does that place look though?

I would like to interrupt this timeline of events to discuss the different variety of people that can be seen at casinos. So far, it's second only to the outfits one can see on Jerry Springer. There are the old women, with huge boobs and fantastically orange tans. They walk around in very low cut dresses and shout things loudly, things like "OH MY GOD YOU SLUT! THIS PLACE IS SO FUCKING BUSY!" They shout in the hopes of getting attention from younger men, refusing to give up on their glory days when their boobs were real, perky, and their smiles were genuine and not surrounded by wrinkles. These women remind of of the Real Housewives of Orange County. Look it up.

Then there is the next group of women, the older women who don't go to surgery, but simply to "young" clothes. There was one woman who had obviously been through several pregnancies. She was probably sixty or so, and she was wearing the TIGHTEST jeans ever. The jeans had bling embellishments on the back pockets and came up to about hip level. The shirt she paired with these jeans was a midriff bearing tshirt of a baby blue color, with more bling embellishments spelling out the words "hot mama." In between the tshirt and jeans was the result of all the pregnancies, the skin that is wrinkled, leatherlike, that was hanging over the jeans. She was walking around shoving her stomach out at men and making lewd comments. (disclaimer: I obviously have a baby. But I don't subject people to the stomach that used to be lovely that was ravaged by pregnancy. It's called decency.)

The next group of women: The gold diggers. The young women who may or may not have had breast implants whose legs are still beautifully tanned and whose hair is perfect. Their eyes are dead as they drape themselves over forty-seventy years old, the ones that grimace when these men playfully grab their asses and talk about them like cattle to the card dealers. "See this one? Her ass is so high and you should see how she can make it move. Come on, baby, show the man that thing your ass does." Disgusting. And what's worse is that these girls think they're really on top of the game, but these men in Laughlin, Nevada aren't even real sugar daddies. They're disgusting men with a little more money than is normally seen. Which is why they hang out in Laughlin, instead of, say, Las Vegas or Chicago or somewhere with class.

Moving on to the old ladies, who I actually love. The ones who know they aren't hot and aren't there to be hot. They're there to play the slots and laugh with their cigarette voices, the ones that dance around when their nickel turns in to twenty dollars, with blue eyeshadow up to their eyebrows and a story for anyone with an open ear.

Moving on to the men. I saw more men with tight Wranglers, big pot bellies and unwashed wifebeaters tucked in to their wastes that I almost puked. The majority of these men were at The Riverside, and they walked around swinging their hips, thinking they were still twenty year old cowboys that were attractive. When instead, they are fifty year old men who are just plain creepy. Their unwashed mullets, slicked back with baby oil and their armpit hair covered with deodorant, their faces that lit up at the sight of the young gold diggers and their lewd, toothless words when the young gold diggers denied them, just, yuck. They were gross and were one of the main reasons I wanted to leave that casino.

The second group of men were the guys who were trying to look rich. The ones who were loud, always shoving out a lighter to girls, wearing blazers of different colors and shoes that were shined to the point that they almost looked nice, these men were trying to be high rollers, slipping off quietly when they ran out of money.

There was also a huge selection of hombres. That's what I call them. Young boys and old boys that wear tube socks to their knees, long shorts and clean wifebeaters, with gold chains and shaved heads, leering faces and the total confidence that This Look, This Look is the Way To Go. Yeah. Creepy.

I have so many more descriptions, so many more observations of Casino Wear, but I really have to pee and I fear that this post is long enough. If your eyes aren't bleeding, you're good.

Now, what are you doing for Memorial Day?