Toph Speaks

I don’t usually do 3 part series, but my first trip to Vegas deserved it. So, if you need to catch up (ketchup), then you may do so here (Vegas Day 1) and here (Vegas Day 2). Before I get back into it - I did want to remind you of some of the goings-on of this story. Again, I’m in Vegas for a conference, names have been changed to protect identities, and identities without the iden is tities, which is just funny. Just to wrap it all up, it’s 12:50 Wednesday, March 26th. This is the longest story in the history of the world.

I woke up the next morning, and there were still a few people hanging out in my room. I knew one of them, which was comforting. Doing a quick check around I found that all my possessions were all still there, my clothes were still on and it did not say cock on my forehead. This was all very promising, as today was the last day of the conference and tomorrow we were heading home. I guess you could say I was a tad on the grumpy/hungover side, because I kindly asked everyone to “get the fuck out of my room.” I, then, took a shower and got ready. Now, I don’t want to say I looked friggin’ amazing, because that’s totally out of my character, but I looked really friggin’ amazing. I made it over to breakfast (obviously, I’m just trying to blow through the day here, and get to the good stuff), met up with Bob and Rob (or Ron… I forgot what I named them…) and went to a few round table discussions. One of them was pretty interesting as it was about convincing advertisers to allow you to control their brand and identity (which again.. tity), and the other was terrible and we walked out 5 minutes into it.

There was a cocktail party being thrown by one of our advertisers, so this is where the last night would begin. You would think with my personality that I’m really good at “networking” and you’d be right. After way too much networking, we took off an hour or so later, and headed over to sports book. In a weird coincidence, one of the horses the in-laws own was running, so I made everyone throw some money at it. Sure the horse didn’t win, but how many times can you say that you put money on a “family” horse in a race while in Vegas? At the tables it was more of the same, which if you’ve been keeping up means losing.

Now, as you know, cheating on La Diabla is not something that I’m about, and I’m not just saying that. She actually doesn’t read the blog (because she hates me), so I’m giving you some truth-telling. However, gentleman’s establishments are totally fine with the lady. She’s cool like that, but she does hate me. Having never been to Vegas, I assumed we’d be heading over to some shady Rub and Tug, but instead we went to Spearmint Rhino. Tell me you’ve been to Spearmint Rhino. I’m not going to say it’s pound for pound the best strip club I’ve ever been to, but the selection of ladies is just phenomenal. There had a to be a lady for every dude that walked in. We got pretty sweet seats, too. We had a corner on lock down, which had a perfect view of the stage, and was in lady walking range. Being in lady walking is always a great idea, because it sets you up to be in control of your own destiny. OK, maybe not destiny, but it lets you control your lapdanceocity. What’s lapdanceocity? It’s the amount of strippers at the club, subtracted by the amount on stage or giving a back room dance, multiplied by the rate of strippers who would approach, divided by the hotness of women. Let’s say there are 100 strippers in the club. Let’s subtract 100 from 50, because they’re already dancing with someone else. Now we have 50 available women. Of those 50 women, which are spread out all over the club, only 15 of them will pass you an hour, and 10 of them are hot. So, your lapdanceocity is 1.5 per hour. Meaning, 1.5 hot strippers will pass you, who are not dancing on stage, in the back, or on someone else an hour. So, you basically have one chance to get a great lapdance an hour or possibly 2, depending on the song. Of course, at the Rhino, the lapdanceocity is 8. This is how good the Rhino is.

When you have 8 hot strippers passing you an hour you’re allowed to be picky. As opposed to when there’s 1, maybe 2 an hour and you take what you can get. This is where the Rhino starts getting really fun. You have 8 girls competing for 1 dude, and these girls are strippers. Come on… how is this not a reality show? They will do anything just to get a dance out of you, especially if you’re attractive, and they will say some of the funniest things you’ve heard in a long time. You want examples, don’t you? Some gems I overheard, “Hey baby, where you from?” “San Francisco.” “You wanna get gay in me?” or “Look at the clock, baby… it’s naughty time.” or “If you come to back room I’ll give you the best blow…” nevermind.

Needless to say, the dancers were incredible. I did spend around $200 on dances from all types of girls. I had girls from Guatemala, Barcelona, and New York, short blonds, tall brunettes, black girls, big chests and small. But, none of them topped Jasmine from San Diego. She was an incredible, tiny Filipina, who may have been the funniest chick I’ve met in a while. Yes, I said funny. See, I try my best not to be one of the creepy strip club dudes, and I go there to have fun, drink and chill out. She got all my money, and it was pretty awesome.

At this point I’d like to say that she brought all of her friends over to my hotel, and we partied like crazy, but I’d be lying. Truth is, we got wasted, bought Jasmine and her 2 friends drinks at the club, and that was that. Actually, it was all pretty awesome. We left around 3, because we were flying out at 10 the next morning. To be honest, you should never spend more than 48 hours in Vegas. Bob mentioned this at the start, but I ignored it. Vegas is a 48-hour town, and when you cross over that time you start to feel like a giant toilet that everyone is steaming in. It’s not cool. However, since it was my first time, the excitement carried me through. That was until I realized we were still drinking at 3am at the Rhino. I considered suicide. Jasmine talked me out of it. She’s sweet.

I’m not going to get into the nightmare that is the Vegas airport, because you’ve either experienced or have already heard this story. I will say that I’m completely fuckin’ spoiled, and spend an amazing time in Vegas for free. How many people can say this? In conclusion, I am awesome. (By the way… we’re hiring if you need a job, want to move to SF, don’t mind the adult industry, and are a chick.) Lastly… It’s 1:58 on the same Wednesday.