Ryan’s husband was turning thirty (many moons ago) and to celebrate a trip to Las Vegas was imminent. Ryan has one of those grand personalities that I can only properly describe by the phrase “Go Big, or Go Home.”
Having Valerie, Ryan, and I on a vacation together was not common, so we each entered this with great expectations. Mine were slightly thwarted by a snowboarding mishap where I accidentallly assumed strapping both legs to a plank on snow was a wise plan. The end result was a fractured wrist and a classy casted arm to take along to a 600 degree Vegas. Poor Ryan and Val found themselves doing “rock, paper, scissors” for who would shave my legs for the week. God bless them.
One night we decided a “girl’s night” was in effect and we headed out on our own. I watched this scenario like an anthropologist. I was fascinated to see how our friend Valerie would fair in Vegas. Of the three of us I would classify Val as the one least impressed with the flash and glam of Vegas culture. We began our “clubbing” evening on the top of the Palms Casino in Ghost Bar.
As I had suspected the excitement of Ghost Bar didn’t seem to affect Val as much, and this became pretty evident to me when she came back from the bathroom and said, “So I saw a set of sheets in Macy’s with all of the Super-Friends on them.” Ryan excused herself to call and check in on her husband and his “boy’s night” Vegas festivities, and Val and I continued our thread count conversation.
I looked to the entrance and a thick group of people walked in. The circles exterior was made up of rough looking black men, and they moved in a heard through the floor. I finally got a good glimpse of the inner circle and there was the one and only, unmistakable Mike Tyson. Myself a fan of the boxing world, I immediately pointed this out to Val. She casually looked over and said, “That’s cool. I think the guy from Saved by the Bell is here too.”
“Iron Mike" took a seat and looked about as scary and intimidating as a man would look who can withstand having tribal images tattooed on his face. I got an idea, “let’s get Mike Tyson to sign my cast." Val looked less than impressed at the thought of approaching the crew, so the idea was ultimately a bust.
But I didn’t care; I had a “Vegas story” to share. We saw MIKE TYSON. A few minutes later Mike and his entourage got up and started out, they took a new route and were coming right past Val and I at the bar. They all moved in front of us and Val and I sat upright on our bar stools to watch the passing crew.
Now, just as the anthropologist observing the ritual habits of tribal cultures of New Guinea, only so much of their data can be logical. There’s always a chance the tribe can shock even the most noted scholar if the tribe were to have mastered the Macarena or an iPhone. My point is that the concept just doesn’t compute, and neither did this.
As the posse moved past us and "Iron Mike" was a foot from us, Val darts her hand in-between the arms of the burly “gates” and grabs the forearm of Tyson. In a split second my heart dropped to the ground level of the Palms when I see “Iron Mike” cock his right arm and fist back in a killers “It’s ON!” stance. Of all the scenarios I was ever considering for the evening none of them remotely revolved around explaining to an emergency room how my friend was cold cocked by Mike Tyson.
To our grace, Mike caught himself before his animal-like reflexes took over and allowed him to follow through with a swing. Val flashed a smile to the champ and he and his entourage continued out the door. Val looked at me and casually turned her chair back around, all with the ease of someone who hadn’t just stared down Mike Tyson. I would have spoken at that moment but I was too busy willing myself out of a stroke.
“Well that was cool” Val said in an obvious attempt to break the silence.
“Why would you, of ALL people, taunt Mike Tyson? You know he hits girls, he went to prison, twice I think.”
“Nah, he was fine. Where are we going after this?”
Boggled still by what just happened Ryan re-enters to coordinate the rest of our night.
“So where do you guys want to go next? Hey did you see that guy from Saved by the Bell is here?”
“Val almost got knocked out by Mike Tyson,” I blurted out.
Ryan just stared at us for a moment with that classic dumbfounded look. The same look Keanu Reeves sports throughout all of Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure.
We took off for more Vegas experience and left our tale of Valerie “The Vegas Virgin” vs. “Iron Mike” Tyson to Ghost Bar.
Remember, “Go Big, or Go Home,” well I don’t think you get much bigger then taking on the champ and living to tell about it.
Ladies, ever wonder where the phrase "tapped that" originated? Fella's, ever wonder if girls had slumber parties with nighties and pillow fights? Yeah, well me too. The Vagina MonoBlogs takes a proactive but honest point of view on some of these timeless questions and offers some perspectives to apply...or avoid for that matter!
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