Friday, Apr. 16, 2010
8:20 p.m.
<< [ Vegas Trip - Day One, Night Two ] >>
"So how did you and The Owner sleep, Amanda?" the pervier one asked. "Did you spoon?"
"Like nuns," I answered.
"Pillows between you?"
"Yeah, actually." We chuckled. We stood around, looked at the pool a bit longer.
"Is she still sleeping?"
"Yeah," I said.
"You should go wake her up."
"What?! No way! You go wake her up!"
"You're just scared 'cause she's your boss."
"Well of course I am, you would be too!"
We chuckled again, and were then interrupted.
"I'm awake, you guys."
We sat around in the living room watching television for a while. Even just a couple of states over, I am always surprised at how different the television is, and watching it feels like a case study in local culture. A time capsule from their present, their here and now. An advertisement came on for a breakfast special called "Deuces Wild" and I promised myself to never, ever eat anything with "deuces" in the name.
Someone knocked on our door. "Room service," he called, but it wasn't room service. A female manager's boyfriend walked in holding a frying pan full of scrambled yellow goo with red and green cubes in it, like cut up Christmas fruit. It was an omelet, and much more delicious than my description is letting on. The four, five six? of us ate straight out of the pan with our forks, communal style. This would be another theme of the trip.
A few girls from the deluxe suite wandered over to hang out in our penthouse and painted nails, while the rest of us meandered between our suite and the balcony. At some point we decided to go for a swim, so me, my running partner, her best friend, and my main female manager (Leo) walked down to swim for a bit. We were there maybe half an hour and I burned, ghostly pale thing that I am.
After the swim, we relaxed in one of the five thousand jacuzzis, until The Owner yelled down from the balcony.
"Get out of there!"
We looked at eachother.
"What?"
"Is she serious?"
"Why do we have to get out?!"
"It's so nice in here!"
She yelled down again. "It's going to drain your muscles! No jacuzzis before the run!"
That's right. The run. We were here to run a half marathon. We grumbled and pulled ourselves out, and back up to the room. On the way up, food for the night was discussed, and someone decided we should head back to Food Max. I didn't have any reason to go, but I didn't have any reason not to, either, so I tagged along.
Another manager had joined us by then, the other one that I primarily work with. Perhaps I should take this opportunity to clarify and give them titles. There is a manager I work with most of the time, she is dominant and can be harsh, but she is also a lot like me. From here on out, I will call her Manager Leo. She is married to Jack-and-Coke. The manager that arrived Friday, I work with her less often but find her to be more even tempered and more fun to work with. She is single. I will call her Manager Libra. The female manager I do not work with very often, I will call her Manager Taurus. Her boyfriend brought us the omelet, his name is Mister Taurus. There is one more manager, I don't work with him at all, but he is the most easygoing of the bunch, and I will call him Manager Aries. He is married to Miss Aries. I will probably delete this later, so take note of it now while it's around, and feel special that you got to read the first draft of this.
ANYWAY.
A group of us decided to head back to Food Max to pick up supplies for dinner that night. I turned to Manager Libra and said, "Have you played Grand Theft Auto San Andreas?"
She goes, "Yeah."
I say, "Ever since I got here, I feel like I am inside Grand Theft Auto."
She laughs, then stops at a shopping cart and asks, "Do you want a ride?"
"Hell yes I want a ride."
I climb into the shopping cart, and Manager Libra pushes me down The Strip. Manager Leo starts to give us a disapproving look, then remembers that she isn't our boss here, and just laughs.
In Food Max, we divide into factions without meaning to. Manager Libra and I end up together, hunting for food. She and Manager Taurus get into a minor power scuffle--Libra is an accomplished chef, and as such, finds some rice to prepare. Taurus declares it not good enough, and selects her own rice for the night. Libra is offended, but a kickass enough person not to make a big deal about it. I observe.
We find smart water, tomato juice, salt, celery, and then head to the liquor aisle to find, well, liquor. She says, "Bloody Marys are the ultimate breakfast food." I don't argue.
On our way out, I spy those quarter machines that lure children. "OH MY GOD WE NEED TO STOP THERE RIGHT NOW," I cry. "I REQUIRE SOMETHING SMALL THAT COMES IN A CAPSULE."
I get a blue elephant with a hole in its butt.
"It has to do something," I say.
"Is it one of those pooping animals?" she asks. I squeeze the elephant.
"Nope. It has to do something, though. Why would there just be a hole in its butt?"
"Does it go on a pencil?"
We spend the better part of an hour discussing possible reasons for the hole in the elephant's butt, then decide that there is no real reason, but that it will be fun to see what fits in there.
The Company calls while we are waiting outside of the store. Some crisis or other is occurring--this is how the school works, though. Everything is a crisis.
My friend back home tells me that she has tried to keep an eye on my substitute, but that my substitute is especially incompetent and has managed to piss off my parents despite being surrounded with excellent people, working there for a year, and having a sub plan detailing exactly what she should and should not do. A pet peeve. I love my job, I love my children, and I despise the idea that my job or my children are not getting the respect and skill that they deserve. When we get back home, I find a replacement replacement, but that is neither here nor there.
Back in our suite, we waste time until dinner. I hang out in the deluxe suite with Manager Libra, and we watch more foreign time capsules together until dinner is ready. Rice and peppers and chicken that isn't salty enough, but I add salt to everything so I assume the flaw belongs to me and not the food.
In the middle of dinner, The Owner and her harem walk in and hand us our race day bags. Inside is a letter about the race, our race numbers, our pins, our race day time tracking chips, our race shirts, and a free sample of energy gel. The shirt is a burnt orange color that looks especially terrible on me, but I am proud of it nonetheless and wear it everywhere. We put them on and pose for pictures, and look like a sea of vomit.
After dinner, we wander back to our penthouse suite, and The Owner's Vegan Friend shows up. They were best friends for ever and ever or something like that, I never really catch the whole story, but together they are twelve again, laughing and giggling. Everyone meets in our penthouse to do a visualization before race day, and The Owner, of course, leads.
She narrates a rough, flowery description of the course. Hills and mile markers. I think about plowing through every one of them, one by one. The course I imagine is fairly straight, with two big hills and then a gradual decline. It is probably for the best that I imagined it this way.
We lie on the floor, breathing and imagining. All of us with different versions of the same day playing in front of us. The Owner tells us to go to bed early, so I climb into bed with her and she stays up another hour or two. Vegan Friend is staying in our room, too, and the two of them giggle all night and talk about The Owner's New Crush. It is amusing and interesting and good for me; The Owner is such a goddess of a woman that I sometimes forget she is human, too.
I sat in bed listening and flexing my right knee. I have knee issues, but usually only when I run, so that it was hurting before the race had me nervous. The race had me nervous. Vegas had me nervous. I read the Tao de Ching and tried to listen, but I should have known better. It says right there that if you try to follow, you automatically fail.
Another theme.
I set my alarm for four the next morning, fell asleep to sleepover chatter, and slept uneasily.