Click here for Mr. Hong Kong Part I (Vegas Pink Monkey).
Was it love at first sight? No. My sight was probably pretty blurred at that point. (Actually, it wasn’t. My liver won organ of the year for its performance in Vegas that week.) Anyway, the club isn’t a place for love; it’s a place for Goose, music, moves, and picture taking. I honestly have no idea what we talked about other than that I showed him pictures from our escapades the night before. It was also difficult to understand him at times through the British accent. After much ridiculousness (ridiculousness that cannot be effectively communicated through the written word), my two friends decided we should head back to our hotel. I told them I wasn’t going to leave yet. They told me that they’d leave without me if I didn’t come back in time. But, these motherfuckers sleep like Rip Van Winkle, so I wasn’t even worried about it. They urged me to go with them, but knowing that I am not very susceptible to persuasion, they eventually left me.
Marquee died down around 5 am. I still had some party in me. Mr. Hong Kong and I headed to an afterhours club. But before we left, I had to rescue my monkey.
As we walked out, a couple of people commented that we looked like a great couple. Mr. Hong Kong, monkey, and I made our way to Drai’s. Rather than experiencing a natural dwindling in my energy level, the pink monkey (plus Redbull and Goose) pumped me up and encouraged outrageous dance floor domination. Rather than cowering in fear and deporting himself, Mr. Hong Kong participated and fueled my madness. It was nice to finally meet someone who required as little sleep as I do.
All good things must come to an end, though. Around 8 am, I told him I should head back to leave Vegas with my friends. He told me to stay. I explained that my flight back to Jersey left from LA in two days. He suggested I find a way other than my friend’s car back to LA. I’m not one to deal with transportational logistics in faraway lands; I left it to him to figure out. He offered to secure a flight for me from Vegas to LA. At that moment, it seemed totally reasonable to abandon my friends and run off with this specimen I had met less than nine hours earlier.
We got in a cab to go get my bags so that I could go shack up with him. On the way, I called my then-boyfriend to tell him of my change in plans. Naturally, he was less than thrilled. He called my friends and told them to keep me from going.
I went to the room and packed my bags quicker than ice would melt in a volcano. My friends, to no avail, tried their damnedest to dissuade me from the brilliant plan Mr. Hong Kong and I had conceived. Off into the morning I went with Mr. Hong Kong. There was no turning back now.
TO BE CONTINUED…
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