Alright, let's get into it. A good friend who we'll call Tami (Apparently I like giving my friends dumb stripper names. My kids are so fucked.), was on a flight coming back from Albuquerque. It's Friday and she's been traveling for work all week. Getting on the plane which will soon have a layover in Las Vegas, Tami finds that the seats in the back of the plane are empty except for one dead-sexy guy. Hmmm, what to do? She takes the window seat, while he's in aisle seat, with no one sitting in the middle. Perfect. Sexy-Bill is from Fort Lauderdale and is on his way to a weekend of blissful sin in Vegas. He has already started on his quest by opening a tab with the stewardess and is beginning to get properly shit-housed. Tami and Sexy-Bill hit it off: discussing the economy, the best ways to care for a tomato plant, and the aniston vs. jolie debate, and all the while getting good and plastered. It's a plane ride, what else is there to do!?
During the layover is when shit gets interesting. I wasn't there but I'm thinking the conversation went something like this:
Sexy-Bill, "Why don't you change your flight and just hangout in Vegas with me?"
Tami, "Fuck it, ok."
It may have been the 2 and a half hour pre-game session on the last flight, but our girl's on board for the long haul.
Leaving the airport, Sexy-Bill tells Tami that they're going to the Belagio for dinner. A nice private date, filled with quirky stories and more cocktails?? NO, NOT EVEN CLOSE. They were going to meet Sexy-Bill's parents to have dinner with them. I'm sorry, I thought you had to legally know someone for more than 5 hours before you meet their fucking PARENTS. Tami, what the fuck have you gotten yourself into.
Dinner: One and a half hours of torture with a side of steamed vegetables. The mother of now: "Are you fucking kidding me with this curve ball-Bill" or just "Curve ball-Bill", tells Tami, "Sweety you can't do that. Meeting men on the airplane and leaving with them? Darling, that's not right." How much do I owe you for that golden piece of advice mommy-fucking-dearest?
Over to the Luxor where Curve ball-Bill has a room. Tami is still getting along great with Bill and they post up at the gambling tables until 4 AM. The drinks are free and plenty. He's giving her money like it's her fucking Bat Mitzvah, and she's losing it. Coooome on dealer, hit me.
They end up in the room as the sun is hitting its alarm clock and beginning to get up, and Tami decides to not sleep with Sexy-Bill because it would make the experience so much better if they just shared a great flight and night and didn't make it about sex. So we've established the intention for moral high ground was there. Instead of that nice idea, Tami and Sexy-Bill (who did NOT disappoint) had tons of Vegas sex. Tami then wakes up at 7 AM and catches the 8 AM flight out-of-fucking-there.
Now THAT is some serious spontaneity ladies and gentlemen. That's some baller shit right there. If you were wondering, Sexy-Bill still desperately hits up Tami every time he is on his way to Vegas on AIM Instant Messenger. I mean, atleast she didn't get married in an Elvis Chapel.
soo good
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