What Happens in Vegas Ends Up On Your Wife's Blog

Last friday SOB and I hopped onto a jet plane and headed off to Las Vegas. His cousin was getting married, and since it was also our 10th anniversary we decided to stick around for an extra day and do something all romatical. All of the wedding festivities were a lot of fun, and deserve a post or seven of their own, but what I really want to tell you about is our sweet, romantic evening alone. 

We stayed in The Paris hotel and casino, and it was lovely, but we hadn't ventured out if it much at all. I had made up my mind that I was going to ride the roller coaster at New York, New York at any cost.  I almost balked when we discovered that it was FOURTEEN DOLLARS PER PERSON but we had walked half the strip in the mid-afternoon heat to get there, so I needed to ride to blow my sweaty head dry. 

After our thrill on the coaster, we decided to take in a show. We really, really wanted to see the Penn & Teller show, but had already looked into it and were dismayed to find that they weren't playing that night. Since we were already at NY, NY we opted for the Cirque du Soleil show they have there, Zumanity. I had never seen an Cirque performance before, and as an added plus it featured partial nudity! I mean, we were in Vegas. If there was ever a time to take in a topless performance, this was the time to do it, and this particular show at least added a teensy bit of culture and class to the whole nudity thing. Right? RIGHT?

Because it was, technically, our anniversary celebration, SOB decided that we should sit waaaaaaaay down front. In front of the front. We ended up sitting on a couch in front of the front row, dead center. It was a lovely couch. Red, velvety and quite comfy. 

About fifteen minutes before the show began, some of the characters came out and started interacting with audience members. Since we were right up front, and since we were the only couch sitting folks there, we were singled out right away. There was a man with a cod piece who went by the name Antonio, and he lured me into biting a card out of his pants. That was fun. Then he had me stand up and display my bosom to the crowd. Since I was wearing a low cut dress and a push-up bra, it was pretty much on display anyways, so no big deal. 

Then things really got interesting. 

A blond woman came up to me and asked me a rather personal question about my husband's, um, love making skills. Satisfied with my answer, she then proceeded to sit on his lap and claim him as her new boyfriend. As the lights began to dim, signaling the beginning of the actual show, she patted him on the knee and said five words that made us both very nervous: "I'll see you later, Steve."

Well, about fifteen minutes latter guess who came out onto the stage? Blondie! And she needed some assistance with her bit selling DIY breast implants, so guess who she called upon? Her boyfriend STEVE! 

For five to seven excruciating minutes, my husband shared the stage with a bare-breasted woman, following her around, holding half filled baggies over her tatas, and then giving them a good squeeze once they were back inside her costume. After he returned to our couch, all hot and sweaty, an usher handed him a card informing him that a souvenir photo would be available to him after the performance. I don't think a single nano-second passed before I blurted out, "That's going on the blog!" 

It was the best anniversary present he ever gave me!