On Friday afternoon, two gals and I ditched work early and headed up the MGM Grand Casino at Foxwoods for the Donna Summer concert.
If I were on twitter (which I'm not, because I don't GET it), the 140 characters I would use to sum up Friday night were:
Traffic, booze, private limo, donna, grandpa, dancing, booze, yummy food, martinis, hiccups, gambling, dancing, shady videotaping, bed
A few highlights:
Every element of the equation was working against us: Friday afternoon, Interstate 95 South through 3 counties littered with accidents, plus rain from Hurricane Bill. Total trip time: 3 hours.
we went total Old School here, pounding a beer while getting dolled up at lightning speed, then taking a second beer in a "to-go" cup to the casino.
We were staying at a hotel a few minutes away from the casino, and they offered limo service – a very nice perk. The Hummer limo was full, so we got the "over flow" limo, which was a stretchie right out of your high school prom, equipped with changing neon lights. We had this baby all to ourselves (and our beer in styrofoam cups). We entertained ourselves by taking glamour shots of us lounging across the leather seats.
Oh, Donna! She sounded amazing and sang all of our favorites, ending with a medley of everything from "Hot Stuff" to "Bad Girls" and, of course, ending with "Last Dance". It was like the Oscars: she did 4 outfit changes during her short 75 minute show.
The last thing I expected was to get in a scuffle with a 75 year old geezer. Our seats were in row JJ (not awful, straight shot of the stage) and we had the last 3 seats. Behind us were 2 women with their father, who looked less than thrilled with our arrival. Between our beers and pre-show drinks, we were ready to do some dancing. We were grooving while SITTING IN OUR SEATS, bopping up an down and singing along with Donna, when an usher tapped my friend on the shoulder.
USHER: Can you girls settle down? There are complaints that you're being too rowdy."
Gee, I wonder who could be complaining.
FRIEND: "It's a CONCERT!"
USHER: "I know, I know. But you're moving around too much. If you could just tone it down a bit..."
At this point my friend turns to the 3 stooges behind us. "It's a concert, people!"
GRANDPA: "You're not sitting still. It's very distracting. I'm trying to watch the show, not you."
FRIEND: "Hey, who don't we switch seats!?!"
They heartily agree, so in the middle of the show, the three of us get up and switch seats with the 3 people behind us. Annoying, but we ended up in Row "KK", which made it all better.
Finally! We were able to cut a rug. Once we got up and started dancing, the guy behind us did the same. Also behind us was a girl and her boyfriend. I could totally tell she wanted to get up and groove, but he was not that into it.
KK: "Come on!" I say to her, "Get up and dance! You know you want to!"
She hesitates and I say to her boyfriend, "Come on! NOBODY knows you here!"
Upon hearing that, she grabbed his arm and they stood up and joined in the fun. I love when people listed to my drunken peer pressure.
We went to the restaurant that has my favorite Hot & Dirty Martini and it was no longer on the menu! The nice bartender made me one anyway, probably just to shut me up.
worst. hiccups. ever.
When in Rome, right? Plus, there's nothing better than being in charge of your money when you're been drinking all night long and your inhibitions are down near non-existent. The roulette wheel was kind to me, and I walked away winning $100.
We refused to pay the $20 cover charge to go to Shrine (even though John Gosslin was just there on Tuesday, so obviously it's super cool), so instead we headed to the bar in the center of the casino, which conveniently had a DJ! There we were, cutting and rug and taking over the place. Once again we got in trouble, this time for taking pictures facing the casino (no photos in the casinos!) and for invading the DJs personal space. Whatever.
There was this guy there, I called him the Creepah, who wouldn't leave us along. We'd try to shake him and then he'd creep up on us out of nowhere. The freaky part was he kept videotaping us on his phone. At one point, I was so pissed (and drunk!) that I grabbed his phone out of his hand.
KK: "Stop f*cking taping us!"
The Creepah did not like this. I made the Creepah mad. He took his phone back and we made ourselves scarce.
Finally, at 2am (after another private limo ride home!), we collapsed into bed.
What a fun night!
Now I'm going to search Youtube for "drunk girls dancing at MGM Grand wearing 70's garb".