When the drunk, large-and-in-charge Mexican man grabbed my phone, texted one of my coworkers, and then yelled to me, "NO TEXTING! JUST DANCING," I thought of two things almost simultaneously: "Dude, give me back my phone, you weirdo," and "I am SO blogging about this."
You may be wondering to yourself, "Why was Christine dancing with a large-and-in-charge drunk Mexican man?" Well, I can assure you - I did not do that on purpose. All I wanted to do was see a good concert and enjoy some country music! The American Country Music Awards are in Vegas this year, and they take place on Sunday. As a build up to that event, there was a slew of free concerts downtown last night. It was advertised as "Vegas Goes Country." Many big names were there, and people can't resist an opportunity to see famous people perform, especially when it's FREE.
Anyway, Fremont Street was PACKED. I could not move at all by the time the concert(s) started. Rex and I went with his friend Steven and my friend Shelley, and we had plans to meet up with some more people from Rex's PT school when we got down there. That didn't happen because his weirdo classmates decided to go to a strip club instead of to the concerts, but I digress. That doesn't really matter for my story. Anyway, it ended up just being me, Rex, Steven, and Shelley.
The thing about Shelley is that she's a middle aged guy magnet. It's really weird. I mean, okay, she's quite a bit older than us (47), but she got hit on A LOT. At one time in particular, we were watching Scotty McCreery perform (he won American Idol last year), and this really super-creeper guy started putting his arm around Shelley and hugging her and stuff. We were packed in like sardines, so she couldn't really move. Because the music was too loud to really talk, the guy typed out his number on his phone and held it up to Shelley. "THIS IS MY NUMBER," he yelled. She said no thanks, but he kept on bugging her. They had literally known each other for about thirty seconds (if you count "knowing" someone as being semi molested by them without even exchanging names, which I do not). She looked quite alarmed, so I turned to Rex and said, "I'm rescuing Shelley. We'll meet up with you later." I grabbed Shelley's arm and started shoving my way through the crowd to try to get away from the creepy guy. When we finally got far enough away, I said to Shelley, "That guy was WEIRD. I'm taking you to my favorite spot to get root beer floats." There is a casino on Fremont that sells $2 root beer floats, and they are delicious. I get one almost every time I go downtown. After waiting about a half an hour in line for my root beer float, I finally got to sit down. It was worth the wait. After about two minutes of sitting, Shelley was ready to go back out into the craziness.
We braved the crowds again, trying to find Rex and Steven. The crowds were pushing even tighter together, though, as people tried to press towards the stage to watch Luke Bryan perform. Finally we were just stuck. People were pressed into me on all sides, and I couldn't move. I could hardly breathe. I could see Rex and Steven about ten people away from where Shelley and I were, but there was no way that we could make it over to them. Rex and I gave each other a helpless wave and turned to watch the concert in our respective cramped spots. That is when Mr. Drunk Mexican entered the picture. He was in front of Shelley and I, but once he got a look at Shelley he decided to no longer pay attention to the concert. He turned around and started dancing with her. She tried to back away, but there was really nowhere to back up. The man's girlfriend/wife person put her arm around the guy and shot Shelley an evil look. Shelley leaned in toward the man and said, "You should dance with your wife...I think she's getting jealous." The man shrugged his shoulders and replied, "Whatever. She feels more like my sister. I don't really care." Wow...husband of the year award.
Just then, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. Thinking it might be a text from Rex (we had been texting back and forth during the concert), I pulled out my phone to check. It was not Rex, but rather was a text from my coworker/kind of friend Amy. She knew we were going to the concert, and she texted to say, "Hope you guys are having fun!" I pulled out the keypad to reply. I started out by typing, "It's fun but it's CRAZY!" Just then Shelley's Mexican boyfriend grabbed my phone. "No texting! Just dancing!" he yelled. When I got my phone back I saw that a text had been sent to Amy reading something along the lines of, "It's fun but it's CRAZY! I litgfisdjhfiu7hhu." I hurried to send another text explaining about Mr. Mexico and that I had not been drinking, even though that text seemed to indicate otherwise. I swear all I had to drink was a root beer float...but Mexico was sending drunk texts from me! Ahhhhhh! As I tried to reply, Mexico grabbed my phone again and repeated his same instructions: "NO TEXTING! JUST DANCING!" Fearing more "drunk" texts from this man, I pocketed my phone and figured I would have to explain later. Just then, Shelley took her lip gloss out of her purse to apply a fresh coat. Her new bf snatched the applicator from her hand and started applying the lip gloss to her lips. CREEPY! She tried to back away, but there was nowhere to go. She finally just succumbed to the psycho that was this night and allowed her new boyfriend to put lip gloss on her. He turned to try to put it on me, but I said no way. I think his wife was about to shoot him. I really don't blame her. Finally this guy got the grand idea to go buy Shelley and I a couple of beers. I said "Sure, thanks!" knowing that as soon as he made his way through the throngs of people, he would never find us again among the thousands of country fans. Perhaps that was a mean way of thinking, but oh well. It was his idea, and it got him away from us.
Shelley and I stood squished among the increasingly stinky people for a few more minutes when two guys started blazing a trail through the crowd. Now, I'm not trying to sound racist here, but the guys looked straight out of the HOOD. They were scary. I thought they were going to start shooting up the crowd. Anyway, people backed away from them pretty quickly, and they were actually able to move through the people. Shelley, being braver than I am, called, "LET'S GO!" and started trailing the gangsters as if we were with them. She had a good idea, as they passed almost right by Rex and Steven. Shelley and I were able to jump off of Train Ghetto and land right next to our friends. Whoo hoo!!
We quickly recounted our tales for the guys. They'd had their own version of crazy. Standing next to them was a HUGE man drinking from a two liter bottle of Orange Crush. I actually initially thought it was a 20 oz bottle, because that's just how massive this guy was. He was about the nerdiest guy you could imagine, with jean shorts up to his belly button and a black t-shirt soaked through with sweat. After each song (which he would sing emphatically and dance his heart out to), he would take out a sweat rag and wipe the sweat off of his face. EEEEEW! We got a video of Rex dancing with this guy - I will have to put it on facebook. I and the two guys behind me kept trying to convince Shelley that this man was her "true love" and that she should ask him out. BWAH HA! I even shoved her into the copious amounts of fat rolls that comprised his butt. I really hope she showered last night.
All in all, it was a really fun but crazy night. There are more concerts tonight. Rex, Shelley, and Steven want to go back, but I don't know if I'm ready to handle it... We shall see.
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