Saturday, November 22, 2008

Crazy in Vegas

Vegas has the jackpot on crazy people. Needless to say there have been a plethora of times that I have been walking to the bus stop and random crazy people will walk past you either singing to themselves, praising the lord for everyone to hear or cussing everyone out. For the most part it's best not to laugh just in case they pull out a shiv.

Anyways, yesterday I was just waiting for the Deuce when this old guy is walking down the sidewalk shouting at everyone. First he was yelling lots of praises and then he looks at the guy next to me and says, "You know what, God talks to me. . . and he says FUCK YOU!" I was trying so incredibly hard not to laugh I almost pissed myself. I feel bad for the mentally ill but how can you not see the humor in this. God isn't trying to save you today. He just wants to cuss you out. Classy Vegas, real classy.

Monday, November 10, 2008

Mi Broken Corazon

One day I was minding my own business at the bus stop waiting for The Deuce when this Cuban guy starts talking to me. In a matter of 15 minutes I basically got the entire man's life story. Needless to say I really could only understand about every other third group of words due to his very, very thick Cuban accent.


Not to sound remotely racist here but it was seriously like a bad episode of I Love Lucy when Ricky would get excitable and Lucy didn't always know what he said.

Well basically I learned that this Cuban guy is a security guard at an apartment complex and that his girlfriend left him. He then proceeded to tell me for the next 45 minutes on The Deuce about his broken corazon.

This is where my fictional 3 year relationship with my invisible boyfriend is helpful.

Needless to say this is not a one time encounter. Whenever my bus is late Mr. Cuban Security Guard feels it necessary to flag me down and talk my ear off.

And it really doesn't matter if I have my ipod on full blast because he'll keep saying hello hello hello hello even though I can't hear him.

I don't mind chatting with people but it's very difficult when you can't understand what they are saying so you find yourself saying this: "That's nice." "Really, well that happens." "Hmmm...That's interesting." "You don't say."

His side of the conversation is usually this: It's been a rough week of work *Cuban I cannot decipher* My broken corazon *Cuban I cannot decipher* My girlfriend is gone *Cuban I cannot decipher* Nice people at work *Cuban I cannot decipher* My broken corazon *Cuban I cannot decipher* Are you marrying your boyfriend? *Cuban I cannot decipher* My broken corazon.

Maybe I need to be a little more tolerant of the random people on the bus....

In the future I may need to tell a stranger about my broken corazon.

Paralegal does NOT equal Hooker

People wear all kinds of outlandish attire in Las Vegas. One ride on The Deuce and you could scream from the top of that double-decker beast, "SPANDEX IS A PRIVILEDGE, NOT A RIGHT!!!"

Why is it that when people travel they think that scary clothing should be packed for the trip???

Needless to say it isn't too difficult in Vegas to figure out who the actual hookers are.

Usually they're in shorts so short that even Daisy Duke herself would say AWWW HELL NO!!!

I'm a paralegal so I have to wear professional attire to work every day but Fridays.

One day in particular I ran out of clean laundry and was forced to wear my green pin-striped suit from Macy's. It's a normal suit. Not cut slutty at all.

Needless to say I'm riding on The Deuce for my trek home after a long day at work when some drunken tourist looks at me straight in the face and slurs at me "ARE YOU A HOOKER?"

This was my response: "Uh, No sir. I'm not a hooker. I'm a paralegal."

I dunno in what city hookers wear Macy's suits, but surely not in Vegas.

What Do You Do For Money, Honey?

People are strange when you're a stranger. Well said, Lizard King, well said.

However, in Las Vegas, the stranger you are the better chance that you'll sit next to me on the bus and talk to me.

One Friday morning I was riding The Deuce as usual on my way to work when this black guy sits next to me on the bus and starts playing 20 questions with me.

Everyone's favorite question in Vegas? *pronounced exactly this way* So you got a husband, boyfriend, baby daddy?

Lately, I have made up a very elaborate story of my fictional boyfriend of 3 years who I live with in a condo and we haven't gotten married because he hasn't asked me yet.

Everyone's second favorite question to ask in Vegas? *pronounced exactly this way* So what you do for a living?

So on this particular Friday the random black man asks me "So what you do for a living?" And I explained to him that I work as a paralegal in a law office downtown.

So I ask him what he does for a living.

This was his response: "I AM INVOLVED IN THE REDISTRIBUTING OF MERCHANDISE THAT WASN'T EXACTLY SOLD BY ITS ORIGINAL OWNERS."

Gotta love an eloquent thief!!!