The Showgirl and I made a twenty minute search of the kitchen before we found the tea. A great host, our Prince. I emptied a pot and boiled the water while she smoked out by the pool. It was a beautiful day, like the days I keep hearing about from Californians-warm and sunny with blue skies and palm trees. Far from the damp foliage of New England.


The Showgirl and I decided we were going to get massages. The Frog Prince was working, but he left us the car. That night there was supposed to be some sort of entertainment. Considering what had been lined up so far, I wasn't particularly enthused.


Honestly, I was dying to go to the strip. And that was a bad sign, when I look foward to seeing the snow leopards and the elvis impersonators and the fucking Stratosphere (Eric always hated that place), you know things aren't going well. When I heard we were gettting massages, I envisioned this glorious decadent spa day at some place like the Bellagio. This local Vegas thing-I had already been there, done that, have the t-shirt, bought the film rights, play the cd, memorized the tag line. What I was looking here was something new. If I had to be in Vegas, I could at the very least get a little decadent indulgence. Isn't that what Vegas is supposed to be about?



Over tea, the Showgirl told me that the Frog Prince liked me but "you aren't what he expected. Princeton, well, he is exactly as I described, but you, well, he didn't expect you."


I should have that printed on my business cards "Bunni Speigelman: Not matter what you think, I'm not what you expect." It is hard to anticipate, however, a four foot six professor covered in three kinds of stripper dust accompanied by a stuffed killer rabbit named after her deceased father.


The house had one of those dramatic staricases favored by soap operas for dramatic entrances and exits. We heard Princeton call out "Descending" as he came down the stairs.


As Princeton made himself coffee, he asked," So did you uh get any last night?"


I nearly snorted tea all over the countertop. "No, not last night" a slow smile spread across her face, "but this morning. And it's big." She holds out her hands. I avert my eyes. No way do I want to know what Frog Prince in packing. The Showgirl and Princeton giggle over sexual details, while I decide to go immerse myself in a pre-massage tub.


We drive to a few places in Henderson before we find another local's casino. The spa can't accomodate us until the following day and so my would be husband ensconced himself at the blackjack table while the Showgirl and I went shopping. She was entranced by the outside shopping mall that seemed to be modeled after Southstreet Seaport without, of course, the historic charm. All the stores were these "not your grandmother's department store" stores like Talbots, Coldwater Creek, and Chico's. One of the places we walked into actually had a corduroy leopard print skirt. I found a little place that sold over the top clearly junk jewelry Vegas style store and bought a few necklaces.


Afterwards the Showgirl and I sat and had a soda and talked. Despite the temperate weather, two christmas carolers in full Dickens regalia showed up to sing in the courtyard of the shopping complex. They must have been sweating.


After spending all afternoon wandering, we picked up Princeton at the blackjack table and headed back to the house to have cocktails and rendez-vous with the Frog Prince. The Showgirl had been going on all day about how wonderful Vegas is , how she would love to live here. As we walked across the parking lot, I pointed out the sunset-a flourescent pink halo of light. Both of my companions shrugged and got back in car and continued gush over the buffets and the stores, the conveniece of Vegas. I felt like I did when I went with my friends to Amsterdam. Sure there is culture in Vegas, paintings, museums, exhibits. There is even natural beauty in Vegas. But I'm the only person who wants to go and see it.

Upcoming Posts: What a Difference A Day Makes: Vegas Diaries Continued and a Special Birthday Blog Extravaganza for the Amazon