on the side of what???

This time last weekend I was in LasVegas. And it was warm, and sunny, and warm, and colourful, and big, and overwhelming and amazing. I have a lot to say about my trip. Unfortunately, my computer has a 'fatal error' so that has been preventing me from blogging as much as I should. Currently I am sitting in the sound booth at church writing this blog. Don't worry, I'm still doing sound, and painting my nails, and reading a magazine, and writing this blog. I'm a multi-tasker.

I will share with you this one story. Which was probably the most awkward moment of my life. More awkward then when my pants got pulled off when I was hanging 10 feet in the air on a zipline. More awkward then the time I went on a date and he had his fly down the entire time and I din't have the courage to point it out, more awkward than the time I tried to get out of a seatbelt infraction ticket by trying to convince the police officer that I had really bad cramps.

Here's the story.
On our last night in Vegas, Bethany and I decided to get super dressed up and sexified and go out for a nice dinner and do some gambling. We don't gamble, ever, so it was sort of a special event. We each threw in $25 and that was our limit and we played within it.

We had had breakfast in New York, Lunch in Greece and decied to round out our cultural experience by having a nice dinner in Paris. We had walked SO much the previous three days that our feet were a little bit swollen, and we rarely (read:never) wear high heels, so by the time we walked to Paris (which, to be honest, was across the road from our hotel), Bethany's feet were blistering and bleeding. Our goal was to find a resturaunt as fast as possible so we could take our shoes off.

So we found a nice place. The kind of place with linnen tablecloths and napkins. The kind of place where your waiter puts your napkin on your lap for you and wears a tux. Where you get a $300 bottle of wine, some oysters and escargot. The kind of place where you actually have a heart-attack when you see the prices on the menu. Like actually. We opened the menu and realized in about 0.5 second that this place was WAY our of our league and price range. I"m talking $75 a plate. Not only is that ridiculous, but it's ridiculous.

Beth and I gave eachother the 'what the heck in the world are we going to do I'm not paying $80 to eat supper' look and started to discuss our options. We didn't know what to do, but we knew that eating there was not an option. Beth felt awkward leaving, and so did I, but I knew we couldn't eat there. So I started to come up with options of what we could do.

a. Pretend one of us was sick and leave
b. Pretend we had an emergency we had to go to
c. Tell them about my serious fish alergy and that the fact their menu had so much fish made me nervous to even be there
d. walk away really quickly (not really an option considering the state of Bethany's feet)
e. tell them we decided we weren't hungry after all

None of those are really good options. I was all gung-ho for B. It's totally legit to claim you got a text that someone just got in an accident and you have to leave right away. Unfortunately, before I could formulate what exactly I would say, the waiter came back to take our order. We didn't go with the 'emergency option' but I did lie - but only a litte bit. I told the server that we just wanted something light before our night out, we weren't really that hungry and just wanted something to tide us over. We both wanted a side salad.

Vanessa's response when we came home and told her (after laughing hysterically I might add), "On the side of what?"

Yup, just on the side... of nothing. A side salad on the side of nothing. Because we weren't 'that hungry'. Hungry enough to eat our salads (which weren't even that good), and to devour the 8 free buns that came to our table.

Then we left and filled up at Baskin Robbins.
Seriously, we are so classy.