Unemployment, Pt. XIV

In the latest fit of ennui, I ironically (adv., 2003) entered this contest in which the prize includes a 5-day stay in the new Cosmopolitan Las Vegas, $500 in spa treatments and dining, VIP access to the hotel’s opening events, and a “private musical performance from a major star.” In other words, everything I’ve ever wanted.

“In honor of our imminent launch, we want to hear about all your Vegas stories - the good, the bad, and the extraordinarily outrageous in less than 500 characters.”

My story:

“In retrospect, I should have deboarded the Virgin Airlines plane as soon as I saw the saggy-bellied bros in Ed Hardy tees throw their hands up at the reams of neon pink lights lining the aisles. Upon checking into the Paris hotel, Joe jokingly asked, “So, what’s the theme of this place?” The joke was tragically lost on the fake-titted orange receptionist, who replied “Like, Paris, ugh.” Later that night at 2am, I fled the plebeians and phillistines at PURE, paying $11 for a copy of The Economist in a self-repentant frenzy.”

Good luck to the other contestants, they’ll need it.