Before I begin, the reason it has taken me 9 months for the continuance of my post, Viva Las Vegas, is due mostly because the crazy funny shit I wanted to include was about my “boss”, other coworkers, & my soon to be ex-boyfriend (also a coworker), and I still worked there. I don’t anymore.
Lucky you.
So, a little recap of where I left off:
My plane left on March 16th at 5:40 am.
On March 15th at about 5:40 am, a man jumps into my running work truck in front of my house, and takes off.
The truck has GPS and we recover it in about 30 minutes. Unfortunately, he got away with-
2 Drivers Licenses
Passport (3rd one)
Work Laptop
Keys to MY LIFE
Leather Jacket
All Credit Cards
Debit Card
Makeup
Custom Work Sweatshirts
$150 Visa Gift Card
PDX Badge for Work
Etc…
After I gathered my wits, I spent hours with IT getting a new laptop setup, then I was expected to work while somehow magically conjuring up a new ID and methods of payment for my trip in the morning.
Let’s just say, I failed.
I get off work and the first thing I do is go grab some make-up with some borrowed cash. Definitely top priority at this point.
It’s about 6 pm when I complete my daily commute home and immediately run to a friends to pick-up something (I don’t remember). I’m telling her about my fucktastrophe when she cuts me off and asks if I got a new debit card or ID yet.
Me: Umm, no. I couldn’t! I don’t have a credit union within an hour from my work and you have to have an appointment to get a new ID!
Liz: You are an idiot.
Me: I know.
She couldn’t help me with the ID situation but she did give me her credit card to use there so at least I had that covered. Now that I think about it, she must really trust my ass if she gave me a brand new credit card for LAS VEGAS lol.
Anyways, I hadn’t packed yet so I started that process, in between Googling “how to get on a plane without ID” and calling locksmiths to see how much it costs to change all my locks.
The locksmith idea was out of the picture. I’d rather get raped by this thief once, then by the locksmith 7 times. It was fucking outrageous. But not tonight. I was not in the mood and therefore, was not comfortable sleeping at home.
My boyfriend/ex-boyfriend, depending on what day you ask, was an extreme fucking passive-aggressive dick, that I in retrospect realized – just needed someone he could talk down to. I’m not that someone. He actually sent me an email when we were fighting one time, that said:
” I am an alpha so either get in line or shut the fuck up”.
Oh I lost my shit.
Sadly, I get over things really fast. Good for my over-all mental health, but does lead me to do stupid shit more often than others.
Anyways, he actually lived somewhat near the airport. But, as is the case way too often, he was having a fit when I needed him. By “fit”, I literally don’t know wtf is wrong with him… Like, Ill get mad at my Project Manager for instance, and send him (the Project Manager) a text telling him he’s an idiot and don’t be Jewish, and that somehow trigger’s the BF or something. Or maybe it was actually something he’s been stewing on for the previous 6 months and just loses his shit spontaneously. I DON’T FUCKING KNOW! Yes, I’m crazy. But HIS crazy is on another level, that could only be understood by a greater power. And I am not that.
So what does he do when he throws his fits? He disappears. Literally.
Thus, that lodging option was not on the table.
So, what does Summer do?
She heads to Portland at 2am and naps until 4:15am on the futon at her work (gross). Duh.
I get to the airport and everyone asks about my ID
Me: Nope, didn’t get one but…. fuck…. I forgot my…. Oh, I think I can use this! [pulling out a garbage bill from my bad].
Coworker: You think you can get through TSA with a garbage bill?
Me: No!
I pull out a pill bottle and inform them I also need that.
They about shit their pants when they got through TSA and saw me at the gate.
It was actually faster that going through with an ID (all 3 times I have done this). I don’t wait in the normal line. As soon as I can get one of the TSA staff’s attention, I let them know I need a “secondary”. They do look at me a little funny when I use the correct terminology but nonetheless, take me out of line and to the front, where they inspect my garbage bill and pill bottle, then ask me a couple questions and test all my shit for bomb residue. Finally, they send me on my way.
When I came back from Idaho, I had no ID and literally nothing with my name on it. No card, bill, NOTHING! And I was traveling with a gun! I went through the same process, however they had to call headquarters or some shit and the person on the phone asked me a bunch of question about where I lived and family.
A couple of my travel companions said they wouldn’t even have tried to go! People stress out way too much.
We finally get to the Hotel and I’m booked sharing a room with a dude…
Long story short, two dudes also got booked in a 1 queen bed sweet, so we swapped;)
Now, this is the point where I have written the ending to this trip/BLOG POST, twice now (and it keeps getting deleted somehow) and I hate to say it, but I’m losing my enthusiasm so I will jump to the highlights….
First night, we all have dinner together at some fancy steak house (like $150 for a side steak), in which the company pays for… though I thought.
….A month later, we all get an email saying we have to pay them back – no fucking joke lol.
Second night, I decide to go out. Maybe get a tattoo??
I am waiting for the monorail at our hotel, when my project manager shows up and is like, “what ya doin!!???”.
We are bullshitting when this drunken couple show up and start conversating… they end up giving us tickets to a cowboy party in Elvis’s sweet.
Probably fucking gay, right?
NO. lol.
Besides the fact we had to take a special elevator, show our tickets so the ‘elevator master’, who would then put a special key in [a keyhole] so we could reach that floor…
There was a live band…gogo dancers… nearly naked chick hoolahooping… like 5 full bars…. a sushi bar (with like a real Japanese person ;)… a full food buffet… a couple pools…live mermaids… and like 47 bathrooms worth of entertainment – it was fucking crazy!
Nothing however, on this entire trip (spoiler alert) will be as crazy as what I experienced about 15 minutes after our elevator let us in…
The project manager (PM) on the job I was working on, is super dry. It actually took me a while to figure out he has a sense of humor. Once I caught on though, it’s actually pretty fucking funny. My real point though, is his jokes and statements often sound the same. So when we were standing there [me drinking a jack and coke and him drinking coke – because apparently that is what he wanted] watching the band [and all the possible reasons why he’s not drinking, but encouraging me to do so, are running through my head], he blurts out –
I don’t drink because when I do I smoke crack and steal shit.
…
hahahaha….?
No? Oh, you’re serious??
Fuck. So… like… real crack??
Needless to say, we had an interesting conversation. The day before we left, he actually told me he was a sociopath over sushi.
But, I’m not done…
Every since 2020, I have been getting tattoos every time I go on vacation. One of those tattoos is from a previous Vegas trip and is a Queen of Hearts.
[clever-face emoji]
You are going to have to trust me that the “K” is genius lol.
Night before we left, I’m having a grand old time with these old fucks! Supposedly, I was in the boring group (per Kerr) but would beg to differ.
I was up until about 3 am with 3 of these ’55 and orders’ (sorry nic), when one of our most grumpiest fucking superintendents stumbled by and out the door.
I hear something about hookers and I’m like, “holy fuck, I’ve always waned to see one!!”, and I start running after him.
Side Note: I found out that most of these guys, or about all of the ones who weren’t wasted, were in such a state because if they were not, they would have 50 hookers in their room.
I don’t remember what exactly was said, but I do know it wasn’t much.
I followed him into a cab. We went to a fancy ass strip cub. I didn’t have my ID (I’m almost 40!!!) so he had to pay $100 for them to forget that, then pay another $100 EACH to get in, then within about 5 min. paid an ungodly amount for us to get some [grab a bucket and a mop for this wet ass pussy] lap dances- then I got a cab and went back to the hotel (leaving my phone in the cab).
Before I met everyone to head back to the airport, I got a sweatshirt to remember the trip by.
Disclaimer 1 (note to their in-house attorney) : The PM mentioned in here, told me when I first got hired, that his daughter found my blog and he had read a couple posts… What I’m getting at is he knew what I did/do (aka blog) before we went to Vegas.
Disclaimer 2: This blog does not give you the right to hack into my email again. OJ may have earned the Heisman, but if you think he had the right to break into someone’s house to steal it… well… I’m not even going to try…
A Single White Female 
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