We’re in Vegas for a week. I haven’t been updating because I’ve either been at Roller Derby or laying on my floor exhausted from working out and playing Derby. I think the mania is calming down and I’m going to widen my horizons back out.

Here’s a random story about Vegas that I think of from time to time. If you haven’t been to Vegas, the strip is riddled with Mexican men and some women in large packs wearing florescent shirts, rudely handing out fliers for “strippers” direct to your room. They’re really pushy and will snap and flick the cards right in your face or many times reach across a woman to try to hand one of the cards to a boyfriend/husband.

One afternoon I came out of Sephoria (girly makeup store) next to the Venetian (swanky hotel) on the strip. There were a group of these guys packed together which was not unusual, but they had strange looks on their faces and were unnaturally quiet. I walked past them, across a driveway and turned around to look again. They were all staring in a strange direction and seeming like they were anticipating something. I walked a little further and leaned against a pedestrian barrier to see if I could figure out what was going on.

Less than a minute later two women in skirts came walking innocently down the sidewalk. The walked in front of the pack of men and across a driveway. All of a sudden, their skirts blew up above their heads, a la Marilyn Monroe. The throng of Mexican guys all let out a raucous cheer. The women rushed off the grate that they unsuspectingly walked over, shrieking and smoothing down their skirts.

When they were gone, the guys got back in position, anxiously awaiting the next unsuspecting victims. I started towards my car, quietly giggling to myself.