Large and in charge

We have returned from Sin City.

While we were there, I did not visit any prostitutes. I did not even see any prostitutes. I did, however, see more silicone breast implants in one weekend than I believe I have seen in my entire life.

Everywhere you looked, it was breasts. Breasts at breakfast, breasts at lunch, breasts in the casino, breasts at the bar, breasts at the buffet. A bounty of breasts.

Now of course, I am not above that kind of thing myself. I wear cleavage shirts. Proudly. Often. But these are surgery-free breasts. They look pretty good in the cleavage shirts. I like them.

But I felt a bit inadequate in Vegas. Everything is larger than life there -- literally, in the case of all those fake breasts.

Now I am all for larger than life -- in many aspects. Big money? Bring it on. Big drinks? May I have another? But big messes -- now that is not good times.

And that is what we encountered to begin our trip. Josh and I arrived in LA on Wednesday night to stay with some friends before we all road-tripped it to Vegas.

We stayed with our friend, Jeff, who has another male roommate. I never thought twice about that before we arrived, choosing to believe (naively) that once men got out of college and into their late 20s, they cleaned their acts up somewhat.

So when Jeff told us in the car that he had cleaned for two hours before we got there, I got a little nervous. When we walked in to find weeks-old bananas and a bevy of fruit flies in his kitchen, I started to sweat.

And then I saw the bathroom.

The bathroom with the stained toilet (I say stained because they appeared to be 37 decades-old rust rings in the bowl), the dirty floor and the moldy sink. I walked in and walked right back out.
Josh gave me a look that said "I'm really sorry I brought you to this place with this bathroom but it's free and it's only for two days" and went back to surfing the net. (The saving grace of this chaos was that we could steal free wireless from a neighbor.)

I grabbed the paper towels and the anti-bacterial spray and I started scrubbing. Three black paper towels later, I made enough headway that I felt I could put my stuff on the sink.

After getting ready for bed, I walked across the sticky hardwood floors and laid down on the futon. (You knew there had to be a futon didn't you?) And as I got ready for bed I was comforted by the buzz of the fruit flies around my head.

At least they weren't larger than life.