Being from Las Vegas, I usually get plenty of opportunity to experience one of the most dangerous land mammals on the face of the Earth in it’s natural habitat: The Elusive Hot. Drunk. Woman.
**Whispering in a British Accent**
Clinically known as intoxitus babeus annoyus , The Hot. Drunk. Woman should never be provoked, and if you do feed her, understand that you may be holding her hair back from falling into the toilet before the end of the night.
** /Whispering in a British Accent**
So I was sitting at the blackjack table, losing like I’m expected to, and off in the distance I see them. At first all I could see was three prom hair do’s swaying back and forth. As the crowd clear way for them, I could see they were already laughing their asses off at Lord knows what. Then BAM! The short one on the left stumbled on her stripper heels and fell flat on her ass.
In fact, the entire time I saw her that night she struggled walking in those torture shoes. Sort of like one of those 50”s variety show dogs they force to walk on it’s hind legs. Wobbling along with a pained, desperate smile on her face.
The leader of the herd, a tall blonde with broad, pilates shoulders struggled to drag her up, stammering in a drunk tone all too loud, “Come on Beotch, get up…I wanna play blackjack”.
Safely back up onto her stripper heels, blondie slapped her on the ass which made all three of the double over with laughter. The laugh fest ended abruptly with a simultaneous “ahhhhh”.
**Whispering in a British Accent**
What you have just witnessed is the oblivious, superiority laugh , a skill mastered only by the extra bitchy of the intoxitus babeus annoyus species.
** /Whispering in a British Accent**
The herd gathered it’s bearings and staggered my way.
You know, I’ve noticed something hanging out in casinos over the years. When Hot. Drunk. Women walk through a crowd, male beer guts tend to contract and expand much like the plant life on Avatar when you breeze by it. In and out. In and out. One Two. One Two.
It had been a long night and I wanted no part of this, so I started corner mouthing to the dealer, “No eye contact. They’ll just walk on past if you don’t look at them. She continued dealing me cards and smiled, shaking her head. Once they reached my table it was a genuine struggle to get seated and at one point, they actually started getting mad at the chairs.
The most sane of the herd, and subsequently the most inebriated, was a delicate, china skinned brunette that popped open a small, bedazzled clutch purse that contained enough hundies to wallpaper my guest bathroom. I get the impression she was the sugar mama of the herd as she bought chips for all of them.
The next few minutes went along normally as we all played blackjack. They all won like crazy and I continued to lose, naturally. The whole time, the kept whispering to each other and would laugh hysterically from it. Without warning, pilates blonde piped up and announced, “I don’t care what you bitches say, I would so love to run my tongue all over Justin Bieber’s sexy six pack….all the way down….which she barely got out coherently. The herd’s leader called her a cradle robber and blondie stammered something about him being way over legal age, and for the life of me, I don’t know what made me open my stupid hole:
“You know, Justin Bieber actually has a 10 inch cock”….
“Unfortunately, it’s usually sticking half way out of his ass and belongs to Kanye West.”
Now, don’t get me wrong .. the Biebs has probably pulled more ass than a nine year old Guatemalan tour guide, but they went there first, not me. Props Justin…
I can tell you the ensuing combination of blank, dimwitted stares and three seconds of silence was by far the most horrifying experience of my life. The last thing I wanted was to have to run away from an ass kicking by three drunken sex kittens, pissed off because I ruined their twisted boy toy fantasy, but flight was foremost on my mind.
I noticed the blackjack dealer had to cover her face with her hand she thought it so funny, but the blast of laughter that erupted from The Herd blew my hair back a little. Pilates Blonde was an asthmatic snort laugher, The Leader fell over sideways into the chair between her and I and Stripper Heels opened her mouth wide, laid her head all the way back and didn’t move or make a sound from laughing so hard. Two guys at the table next door even busted up.
The Leader glanced up at me, reached out a hand and grabbed my arm. “You’re funny. Make us laugh some more funny boy”, she she murmured.
I’ve been in comedy long enough to know that when you get a orgy of laughter like that, there’s only one thing to do. I grabbed my chips, my drink, unhooked my mike and got the hell out of there.