Blonde Like Me

The night prior to jet setting to Vegas (a 7:10am flight is a stupid idea), I'm putting together a Caddy Shack themed party for my clients. Another $35k Birthday Party. Gotta love the 50 year olds who can still live it up. Our clientele is comprised of a number of retired football players needless to say. I look around at the men. Despite how much money they have, I would certainly never 1-0 any of them (see blog post for 1-0 "to blow or not to blow"). Looking around the room, their wives are hot. The kind of hot with help of course. Maybe a handful of brunettes in the room, but 90% are blonde. Everything about them is essentially not what their mamas gave em, and yet with their fake it to make it attitude, they're sporting next years Jaguar, 9-11 Turbo, and Aston Martin. 


My favorite quote from my dad growing up, was when I was 13 entering High School, "Fake it til you make it". Coming from a small private catholic school, it only made sense to eat or be eaten after my first encounter with the public school crew. In a land where girls tore out each others weaves and boys beat each other up for Nikes, it only made sense to act like I rolled with the big kids. As a female in the land of the competition for self approval, "faking it until you make it" is the only way to compete. 


The statement that blondes have more fun is not just a myth. We all know it's true, but for Trouble and I, we needed to see how much more fun is "fun". Everyone loves a blonde Asian right? 9 days blonde and I'm $2,700 richer, have gone out on 5 dates in 7 days (which was exhausting if I say so myself) and experienced the luxury of being escorted by the promotors in Vegas to our own tables with comped bottle service at 2 nightclubs and 2 pool parties. Trading our presence for 2 day beds, 2 pitchers and 3 rounds of shots, SOLD! I suppose it doesn't hurt to roll with a couple Charger cheerleaders in your group of 7? We start our weekend at 11am Saturday morning with a couple Stanford football alumni, now NFL: 2 Broncos, 1 Cavalier and 1 Charger.   

The EC Twins are spinning at Marquee Sat night, and we are at our second club for the evening, Haze having been a utter disappointment on the hot male sector. We are led to the VIP section and the waitress pours our drinks. "Goose and soda", I tell her. "Easy on the soda". We dance for a bit then climb the dividers to the table in front of us to get closer to the DJ's. A sense of entitlement comes over you when you aren't drinking someone else's booze. We toss our heals off and dance on the dividers.  I'm over 5 cocktails in (1 drink wonder status, I may remind) and I look over and see my girlfriend Charger shoving her dance parter. "Eww gross", is all I really hear come out of her mouth. I later find out that the guy whips out his dick and tells Charger to grab it. The bouncer gets handed a $100 from another guy at the table. We basically are getting kicked out (for the 1st of 2 times this weekend) and paid to get kicked out at that. We grab our heels and link hands to form a train of 7. As we make our way to the crowd. Eyes are turning and Charger demands that the bouncer escort us to the ladies room on our way out. He does of course. No one says no to Charger. She's too fucking hot to piss off and not worth the risk of giving up even the smallest chance a experiencing anything sexual with her.  Charger comes out of the ladies room refreshed and tells the bouncer, "he whipped out his dick and paid you to take us away, so where are you taking us now?" She adds gloss to her lips as she makes her demands and doesn't even offer the slightest flirtation or smile. He grabs her hand and we all link arms once again. He brings us to a new table directly in front of the stage. The guys at this table are handsome. They barely speak English and in the end it doesn't really matter as we are being handed stacks of cash to toss up in the air just to make it "rain". We later are given $500 each to gamble with and come away on top. No pun intended as rule #1 for our team in Vegas "KNOW YOUR BABY DADDY" which goes hand in hand with rule # 2 "NO SEX IN VEGAS" (3rd base maximum).  In the end, I walk away my second trip to Vegas in 6 weeks and my first time as a blonde, with a new realization. I may have been hooked up as a brunette, but no where near to the extent as a blonde.  I return from Vegas with proof that these 35-40 year old women married to these ex football players from my Friday night event are simply playing the game. They've all just figured it out. Fake it til you make it until you get exactly what you want. 


In our exploits of being newly single, I'm sticking with the blonde  hair because it's a hell of a lot cheaper than buying my own drinks. It's expensive being an alcoholic. 

Flavors of San Francisco

Monday, May 16, 2011 from 5:00 PM - 8:00 PM (PT)

San Francisco, CA