The Underwear

When we got to our hotel, which shall remain nameless but is identified by the giant sphinx out front, we were put in the pyramid instead of the towers. Now this was met with some degree of excitement because much had been heard of the great sideways elevator, it has an Egyptian name that loosely translated means 1) Makes incredibly scary noises that sound like a prelude to plunging to your death and 2) Motion sickness creator. So picking up our luggage we headed toward the MISNTSLAPTPTYD (see above) Apparently the MISNTSLAPTPTYD is so exclusive, you must show a key to access it.

The inside of the rooms of the hotel, which will remain nameless, carried the Egyptian theme to the limit. There were hieroglyphics on the headboards, and the bathrooms had tiny little pyramids that contained shower caps. All of this was still okay though. It was when they got to the bedspreads that they really went too far. It was like someone had frozen the scene from the Bangles ‘Walk Like an Egyptian’ video and used the pattern to make the bedspreads. Some people just don’t know when to stop.

Now if you ever get the chance to stay in a pyramid I would advise against it. I mean they buried people in those. Plus with the airport so close it was as though I could hear individual planes landing on the side of the structure. (Although I must say that no matter how many times I went running to the window, I never actually saw a plane or spaceship land). I only mention the spaceships because some people believe that when the ananazi disappeared all at once, they were actually taken into space by aliens. I can't tell you exactly who it was that said this, but I know I read it somewhere. Also I think the Mayas also disappeared and they had pyramids that the supposed spaceships supposedly landed on (this I learned from a choose your own adventure book when I was 8 so it may not be the MOST reliable information, but still something to think about). Anyhow... (After I wrote this I happened to stumble across this link on the internet. Apparently I was not the first to make the spaceship pyramid connection, although mine was a bit less heartfelt)

Back to the story. On this particular trip, I ended up sharing a room with someone I had met, but didn't know super well. We got along pretty good and both being pretty blunt we said (for the most part) whatever was on our minds.

On the night of our arrival in Vegas, I lost some money. I actually lost all the money I had allotted myself in about an hour and a half. My luck was so bad that I probably couldn’t have gotten the ATM machine to payoff. After a bit of wandering around I decided to go back up to the room and kick back.

After a white-knuckle ride in the MISNTSLAPTPTYD I walked to two blocks to my room. Once there I turned on the TV and got ready for bed. I know I'm lame, but it was almost midnight and I did have to get up early. After about 15 minutes of watching the "Hotel" channel (this is where they tell you all the cool things about your hotel ad-naseum - Also it's interesting to me that no matter what channel the TV is on when you turn it off, it's on the hotel channel when you turn it back on) I dozed off. When my roommate came back to the room about a half-hour later, I woke up for a minute, but then fell asleep again.

The next morning I went in to use the bathroom and there was a really tacky pair of thong underwear sitting on the back of the toilet. Now I must admit I was a little disgusted by this. I'm not totally a neat freak, but dirty underwear. Ickkkk. But, in the interest of peace, I didn't say anything. I figured that since J and I were sharing the room, I should be polite and just ignore the whole underwear thing. Because really, how do you bring something like that up with someone you don't really know?

On Saturday morning we went to the spa, which was very nice even though they only had canned orange juice and not fresh squeezed. Since I'm broke most of the time, I've only been to a spa one other time in my life so this was a new and kinda cool experience for me. Anyhow we came back from the spa and J showered and got dressed and I went in to shower and there on the back of the toilet, was the underwear. Now I was a bit put off by this, I mean come on can't the girl do something about her underwear. Still not wanting to start an argument I once again ignored the underwear.

We went out that day and did some shopping, and after walking around Vegas all day (more on that later) we returned to the room to shower and dress up fancy for dinner. Once again J showered first and once again, I entered the bathroom to find the dirty underwear in its place on the commode.  This time I just shook my head. Oh well, I thought, she's leaving tomorrow morning and she'll take it then. So we went out that night and had a good dinner and saw Blue Man Group (this show is much more fun than it sounds like it would be). I stayed up late gambling and ended the night about $45 ahead, enough (almost) to return to the spa the next day.

 When I returned to the room, J was already asleep and sure enough when I went into the bathroom the underwear was STILL sitting on the toilet. I shrugged off my annoyance. After all, people are different; maybe she just keeps her dirty underwear on the back of the toilet.

The next morning, we spa'd again and after returning I went in to take a shower and saw the underwear was still there. Poking my head out the door, I said, "J don't forget to pack this underwear," to which she replied

 'Uh that's not my underwear, I thought it was yours."

We both stopped for a second and it sunk in. EWWWWWWWWWWWWW" Apparently for two days J had also been being polite about the underwear. When she came in on Friday night the sink was all wet (my fault) she saw the underwear on the counter and, thinking they were mine, moved them to the toilet so they wouldn't get wet.

 When I went into the bathroom the next day I assumed they were hers and she assumed they were mine and so we pretty much spent the next two days in silent disgust at the other persons habits. The thing that makes this even funnier is that neither one of us is the type to old our tongue and yet for three days we stayed silent and our toilet hosted some strange person's tacky thong underwear. So I guess when they talk about things staying in Vegas, they mean like underwear and stuff.

 

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