30’ish day break

Relax, it’s just temporary.

Let me start with this simple disclaimer: I do not have a drinking problem.

But I will admit that drinking is a huge part of my life. With watching sports on a nightly basis, meeting friends for dinner (and you guessed it – drinks!), going on terrible first dates, drinking to get over said first dates, hanging with friends to discuss their terrible dates, etc. Plus I actually love the taste of a fine wine, glass of champagne or cold craft beer.

I figured if there was a month I could give up alcohol, January would it. Because let’s face it: February is not only the Super Bowl, but Valentine’s Day (must drink to get through this), March is St. Patrick’s Day (no, I’m not Irish, but it’s also March Madness) and once April hits here in Houston the patio weather SCREAMS my name and then you have the entire summer, which leads to football season, which brings us to the holidays and then back around to January.

So yeah, January has got to be it.

Anyone interested in going sans booze with me for the month?

Note: January 1st for the FSU/Oregon game does not count and IF we go to the National Championship, that day doesn’t count either, but it’s still an admirable goal, right? Or maybe I should man-up and not drink the entire month like I originally said? Also, let the record show that the last seven days of 2014 I was not able to drink because of illness…

Ok, who’s in?

Vegas Day Club, Day 1 (not so bad, right?)

For those who may not be familiar with the phrase Day Club, it’s simply a club during the day. Ok, I’m being an ass. Basically it’s the adult-only pools in Vegas that require quite a bit of money to get through the line and are overflowing with overpriced drinks, water you probably wouldn’t let your unborn son swim in, copious amounts of unfinished and faded tribal art, and more rules than an 8th grade Catholic school.

I’m sure a handful of people will read this piece and think, Oh this girl’s lame, she must not have had any fun – what a loser. And you’d be wrong. I did have fun. Quite a lot of fun, honestly, but I feel compelled to paint a fairly accurate picture of one of these said “Day Clubs’ through my eyes. And my mom says I’m not a loser.

Since I’m a travel writer, I don’t really want to knock anyone’s facilities, so for now, I’ll omit the names. If you’re familiar with Vegas, you can probably make an educated guess at A, B and C.

Pool A

Upon arriving in Vegas early morning, I stumbled upon a man who worked at the hotel we were staying at. While one of the girls was checking us in, two of us stood in the lobby and and struck up a conversation with him. We asked for tips on the best “pools” (not knowing we were using the wrong vernacular) and he recommended (obviously) the Adult Pool at this particular hotel. He made a call and put the four of us on the VIP list. Upon walking through the entire property, we stumbled upon two lines – one was VIP, the other was the regular entrance. Since we got hooked up in VIP, the guy in our party tipped him $20 as a courtesy. The “regular folk” in the general line each had to pay $80 for guys and $50 for girls, just to enter.

Then we proceeded to a security checkpoint line where I was told I couldn’t bring my GoPro inside or the selfie pole that attached to it. The guy in our group was wearing a tank top with the #10 on it (in a floral pattern), but he was told that it resembled a jersey too much so he was asked to check his shirt for $10. Not to remove it and put it in a bag, but to check it. Same for me with my GoPro. Add another $10 on to my tab and $10 onto his. Then I had to go through another security checkpoint (different guy) who opened up my cross-body lululemon bag with what seems like hundreds of pockets. Each and every pocket was searched along with all ten of my lip-glosses, which were opened and then smelled. I had gum in my purse – not allowed. My friend had mints – not allowed. I also had allergy medicine – not allowed. I could either check that stuff (for another $10 because I no longer had access to check stuff with my old stuff) or throw it out. Then we went through one more checkpoint (exact same procedure opening everything in my bag, including the lip glosses) and could almost see the pool…I mean club. But wait, one more checkpoint, this time a pat-down by an overzealous, burly security guard.

Having just gotten off the plane from Houston, I assure you the pat-downs and security checkpoints at this Day Club were much more in-depth than TSA, which is equal parts annoying and scary.

And we’re in! Finally. And that was being VIP! The pool was absolutely packed, the World Cup was on a huge projection screen over the pool (which was incredibly awesome), the setup was nice (unless you needed somewhere to sit) assuming you didn’t want a $2,000 cabana to rent for a few hours. Off to the bar we go and I order a pretty hefty sized blueberry vodka, sprite and cranberry juice–$41. Refills? Of course not. Enough vodka to do the trick all damn day? Of course n…well, almost.

Hanging in the pool, dancing, and people watching was fun, until we had to keep refilling (and paying for) our drinks. I was at the pool for about four hours, and my bar tab (no food) was over $400. Oh, and I’m a girl. But it was fun. Probably my favorite Day Club during this trip.

Pool B

For starters, Pool B was a maze. We asked about 20 staff throughout the hotel and casino

Drinking Moet in a bikini – is there anything better?

where this Day Club was (again, not the regular pool) and finally made it after being searched (barely) by one guy who just opened our bags. It was $20 for girls to get in and $50 for guys (our total was $160 just to get inside the pool). The guy at the door noticed my Texas driver’s license and he happened to have grown up here – very nice guy. As our last guy walked in, he handed the money back to him (all $160) and just said he was taking care of his Texans. We ended up tipping him $40, which he was hesitant to take, but I stuffed it in his pockets. Probably the nicest, most down-to-earth guy we met all weekend.

We see a much smaller pool than the day before, and we were there pretty early so it was wide open. The only “seats’ at this pool were daybeds/cabanas you had to buy or to set your towel around the perimeter of the pool.

The guys in our group wanted to buy a bottle ($400 for a bottle of Grey Goose, which came with three free mixers and we ordered six Sugar-Free Red Bulls–$63), which luckily, got us a daybed where we could relax and stake our claim. We ordered food, of course not cheap, but pretty tasty.

We did a round of Fireball, which in hindsight, was beyond stupid. Sitting in the sun and it still only being 1pm and all, but we rallied. I don’t even want to know what a round of Fireball cost…

Pool C

This is the Day Club/Pool I’ve been hearing people rave about for at least a year or two since it opened. It’s the reason you are supposed to extend your Vegas trip an extra day (to leave on Monday). This Day Club in particular was the first time I realized that douchebags are in fact high rollers. Either that or they save up every last dollar they have to attend one of these.

The guys in our group were smart – they had already called ahead and reserved a cabana – which comes with your own waitress and a minimum. The minimum for our cabana was $1400 – that meant during the time we spent there, our bill had to be AT LEAST $1400 (not including the automatic 18% gratuity, the taxes and the live entertainment fee, which is later added on). And the $1400 minimum here was the cheapest cabana – the ones in front of us (with a better view of the pool and stage) started at $2500. $1400 might sound like a lot (it still is), but when each drink is $45 and there are five people in your party, it goes fast. Really fast.

Here (of course), we went through another vital checkpoint (x2) where our bags were opened and objects pulled out in plain sight (like my bikini from the night before?). A friend had a makeup compact with a mirror in it and we were told nothing with a mirror was allowed to enter, so trash it went.

A huge pool, great music and even better people watching. If they say the freaks come out at night, then it must be accurate to say the douchebags come out during the day?

The Blonde Side: 0 | Vegas: 1

I will end this piece with my favorite story of the trip. While in Pool C, a guy swam up to me while I was sitting on the edge and started to flex his muscles, without saying a word. He waded there awkwardly for at least 30 seconds still flexing and kissing his biceps in the most awkward way until I say, “What are you doing? Are you saying those are big?” all the while laughing at this character whose arm tribal band of course stops halfway, probably because it was too painful on those big muscles.

Him: “Yeah these guns are huge.”

Me (with an annoying drunk laugh): “Well sweetie, I’m from Texas where everything’s bigger – I wouldn’t brag about those.”

Him: “You (expletive, expletive, expletive) – I’m a 20x Olympic Gold Medalist Cage Fighter, I could rip you to shreds you (expletive, expletive, expletive).

Me: “Well that’s funny, because Cage Fighting isn’t even an Olympic sport…”

At this point, the unfinished tribal armband man decides to turn his aggression and attention to the guys in our group, who just so happened to be black and the guy starts calling them a name you might have been accustomed to hearing back in 1930. When our guys pay this knucklehead zero attention (smart move), he diverts his attention to perhaps one of the largest (and by largest I mean fattest) guys in the world, to where three security guards and his entire cabana entourage can barely hold him back. Picture Billy Bob from Varsity Blues, but add 100 lbs. and 15 years on the guy and there you have your visual image. And then add to that image the tribal armband douchebag and there you have the scene.

Vegas is still a fun place, but perhaps I’m just getting too old to party like that. I’m not a fan of having to “check” my items or have my belongings searched multiple times. Plus, I work for myself, so my money is very important to me.

If you are planning an upcoming Vegas trip, here are a few tips:

– Check the rules of any Day Clubs (and Night Clubs) you plan to visit. Some have very strict dress codes and then the weird stuff like “no gum.”

– Have plenty of cash. This may seem obvious when on vacation, but the ATM fees in Vegas are much steeper than your hometown. You can always redeposit your leftover money when you get home (if there is any).

– Go with a fun group. Odds are, you are going to run into quite a few douchebags during your stay, but if you’re with a good group, who cares?

– Leave the Affliction clothing at home (or better yet, donate it to Goodwill), and don’t talk about Crossfit. Let your abs and your muscles do the talking.

– As much as I love the slogan “What Happens in Vegas Stays in Vegas!” remember in the age of social media, that is not at all true.

– Have fun!

*Note, at all three Day Clubs, even hotel guests staying at that property had to pay a cover to get in. Bring your debit cards, kids.

This article originally ran on CBS Man Cave Daily. Click here to see it on their awesome site.

Twitter can be a cruel cruel world y’all

Tonight my Twitter feed led to me to this Deadspin article titled Hockey Blogger Fired for Being a Serial Creep to Women on Twitter, and before even clicking, I knew who it was – Steve Lepore.

How was I so sure? Because the jackass did the same thing to me recently. After reading the article I immediately sent this tweet – “Funny I reported this Steve Lepore BS months ago TO his editor at USA Today & she tweeted snark back to me.”

Curiosity got the best of me so I looked back at past emails and tweets and realized my own personal situation with Lepore took place NOVEMBER 2013 – more than a year ago. Has he been treating people like shit and soliciting pictures using his sports gig as a way in for an entire year hiding behind a Twitter handle without cause for concern?

I find it grossly ironic that I had brought this to the attention of not only the Twitter world, but his editor (at the time) at USA Today Sports and got nothing back. Actually, even worse, the exact second I hit send on the email detailing my issues and run-in’s with Lepore, the same editor RT’ed some of his nasty tweets about me. Tweets making fun of me and other nonsense completely downplaying my career. Yes folks, The Blonde Side is my career. I devote countless hours researching athletes and coming up with new angles, pitching editors, networking and making connections, keeping up to date on some of my favorite writers recent work. It’s work, I promise. And in one fell swoop, Lepore and his editor discredited everything I had worked for, all because of a backstory of me not wanting to tweet-flirt with the creep.

The sad (and yet simultaneously cool) thing about having a Twitter bio fueled by “writer for USA Today Sports,” is that you kind of have a built-in posse salivating at your every tweet. The moment you say attack – they’re on it – all for the simple and basic hope you’ll shout them out on social media for a brief moment of solidarity. (Can I get a RT for my birthday!?)

While I can’t speak to what Lepore is like in real life, I can speak to what his faux-balls and power as a writer at a highly regarded publication made him in the Twitterverse – a complete jackass with a bunch of lemmings ready to crucify you just because he gave the go-ahead. Hockey fans are intense, and if one of their beloved writers says to go after you, well that’s exactly what they do not even knowing the backstory.

Because there is a backstory. 

My conversations with Lepore started just like every other one with a sports fan/potential creeper – we start following and RT’ing each other, then we progress to try and outwit one another with our regionally biased sports trivia and banter, and then out of nowhere they inevitably get that urge to send a direct message – a private message no one else is privy to.

Since this wasn’t my first rodeo with a not-so-good-looking guy with a stellar vocabulary and exceptional use of oxford commas, I knew his game – he’d start by telling me how rare a pretty girl into sports was and how much he loved my column and if he could ever be of assistance to let him know. My response as always was pleasant and appreciative, but I left it alone.

His direct messages quickly became more frequent and flirty and I started to taper back. After all, I’m not a huge hockey fan and he wasn’t all that entertaining. Truth be told, I never read his work. He started commenting about my Instagram photos (yes, he’d send a tweet to talk about Instagram, which is Creeper 101…) and how I should show more cleavage. I was too pretty not to show more. When would I be in his area? If I get you an interview with my editor, can we hang out? When can I teach you all about hockey – we need pretty girls like you covering hockey. How come you only post a bikini picture every few weeks? Why not more? What’s your favorite thing to wear?

It got annoying. It got creepy. I may be single, but I wasn’t interested.

Yup, this is him.

And then it happened. I unfollowed the schmuck. I’ve watched enough Lifetime movies to know it wasn’t pretty once you block a number or click unfollow, but I did it.

I had to – he was that annoying. And wouldn’t you know that very same day he took to Twitter (this time in a public forum) to try and call out one of my previous tweets. He took to a handful of messages (some he eventually deleted and karma-loving enough now he has deleted his entire account since whistleblower Toni M. called him out, which eventually led to his firing) of telling me my “job” wasn’t real and that I didn’t know what I was talking about.

Totally fine, you’re entitled to your (wrong) opinion…

He then resorted to saying that any girl who says she loves football (i.e. me) was just a t-shirt fan and in it to find a husband. All very insulting things, then he’d RT my original tweet with a rude message so his basement loving vultures would come after me. He would @ me and say “girls pretending to work in sports,” and just wait for his “pals” to tear into me. And then other USA Today Sports writers would chime in on his behalf. Honestly, it was one of the few times I’ve felt bullied and disrespected, and this all coming from someone who was simply butt-hurt I didn’t want to play the DM game with him.

Don’t get me wrong – I can handle ridicule. Hell, it’s basically been a part of my life since I learned to tie my shoes. But the part that really sucks is I debated long and hard to reach out to my acquaintances at USA Today Sports and whether or not to send an email to his editor. I mean, I did want to pitch a few freelance ideas to this same editor, so I didn’t want to be that tattle-tail girl. In the end his unprofessional behavior deserved to be called out and perhaps looked into. But to my knowledge, it wasn’t.

Quite frankly, USA Today Sports should have been ashamed that one of their employees, a grown man, had to be BLOCKED from another adult.

I’m glad other women felt the need to call him out and it finally led to his dismissal. I do believe in Freedom of Speech and not everyone has to agree with everyone by any means, but to put a bounty-tweet on another human when you know your ravaging fans will be relentless on your behalf is just nonsense. And all because I didn’t want to get all cuddly and talk about photos with you?

It may be Twitter, but the computers and mobile devices that Twitter lives on still exist in real life.

Imagine if this had been a more serious issue that was ignored by so many. Sure makes you think…

[Updated 12/2 12:25p]: Since the world wide web is always full of controversy and speculation, I wanted to rephrase who the “she” was in reference to Lepore’s editor – I realize there are many “she’s” at USA Today Sports, so please don’t assume. She may have been interim, in charge of particular stories/assignments, or just in general over social media since that was my complaint. Heck, my email could have been buried in an inbox for all I know (but the tweets sent by her certainly did not). I applaud USA Today for letting Lepore go and for all the other women who stood their ground, unfortunately this kind of behavior happens a lot more than people realize.