Friend Politics 101 – Rule No 2:

Sometimes One Monkey DOES Stop the Show…

Los Angeles socialites are big proponents of convenient nightlife. That is, we frequent venues that are within an assumed non-DUI driving distance where the doorman is familiar enough with your face so as not to have you waiting in line all night. However, once in a while (or once every 3-4 months) we decide to break from our local watering hole routines and follow a very specific migratory pattern (via road trip, or 1-hour plane ride on Southwest). For over the bridge and through the woods lies a magical kingdom, an enchanted forest of drinking, dancing, flirting and whatever else you can squeeze into a 48-hour window of time. Yes ladies, in case you haven’t figured it out I’m talking about VEGAS!!!! Ahhh the joys of Las Vegas… you either love it for its non-stop, high voltage, billboard party life, and cigarette smoke filled casinos or you hate it for its non-stop, high voltage, billboard party life, and cigarette smoke filled casinos.

Upon arrival it is customary to throw caution to the wind and go with the flow (especially if you’re with a group of 3 or more people). However, going with the flow also pertains to “cash flow.” Meaning, if you’re not financially in the right place to take a trip it’s probably better to stay at home, do some laundry, and figure out a game plan so as not to be left out of the next trip’s festivities. Now, this is not to say that a person of modest means can’t enjoy themselves, you don’t need to be a “Baller” to have the ultimate Vegas experience. Plenty of folks drive up to Vegas on the “Baller on a Budget” $300 dollar vacation fund ($100 for your portion of the hotel for 2 nights, $25 on the gas tank, $25 on the magnum bottle of Grey Goose for the room and the other $150 for food, entry fees, etc.). Now that we’ve covered some of the cost effective ways to “do” Vegas, can someone please explain to me how it is that one determines that they will not be paying the $20 entry fee to get into the club only after they’ve bypassed all boot camp style obstacles of the velvet rope? I mean, isn’t this an executive decision that one makes in their head well before stepping out?

For example, it’s Fourth of July Weekend in Vegas, you and your friends decide to party at Jet Nightclub in the Mirage hotel. After chopping it up with the promoter, who you met on Twitter, the seas part and all of your friends are escorted through a crowd of jealous girls saving you an hour and a half wait. You reach the front door of Jet with the understanding that everyone still has to pay the $20 cover because of the holiday weekend. Knowing this beforehand, everyone is in agreement that Jet is the spot for the evening. Fully decked in your most bedazzled Vegas mini dresses, you and your girls are ready to pay the $20 and have an awesome time and an awesome hangover.

Three of you whip out your clutch bags, $20 dollar bills wrapped tightly around your California ID’s. Faintly in the background, Queen Victoria (friend #4) starts complaining about having to pay and how she NEVER has to pay in LA and how she doesn’t even go out if she has to wait in line. Her complaining turns into pouting, her pouting turns to blatant refusal and there you are, faced with the prospect of having to leave one man out. Let the rationalizing begin! You don’t really know the girl, she’s a friend of a friend brought along only by default so as to cushion the costs of the Double Queen Suite you booked at the Hard Rock HRH Tower. Fully prepared to leave her to her own devices, you pretend not to notice the mini conference that she’s holding with the other two girls. As soon as you extend your cash and ID to the guard, your BFF taps you on the shoulder to inform you that friend no: 4 has no cash to get in.  Your first instinct is to grab your BFF and head for the entry.  Of course, the inevitable domino effect, she feels bad for friend #3 who will be stuck with friend #4 at the Golden Nugget Bar and Grill fending off  local degenerate gamblers.  A rain cloud of disappointment appears as you’ve come so far only to have to turn around and do the walk of shame back down the red carpet. You feel retarded, like the static rewind button on a VHS tape, because SOMEONE decided that it wasn’t “worth it” to spend the necessary entry fee to party like a wannabe rock star.  Of course there are always other spots to go to in Vegas but everyone knows that the spot you didn’t get into is the spot that everyone will be talking about the next day…Womp…Womp!