The Las Vegas Courtesan

I mentioned in my Twitter a hint to planning a bachelor party: don’t book your party to stay on the same floor as your future wife’s bachelorette party. Seems like pretty common sense right? Well apparently some people aren’t born with such gifts! I got a call around 2AM to go to Circus Circus from an agency that usually books from referrals only. I pull in, the phone girl verifies the client is in the room, and I get the room number to go up. As I get into the elevator, two girls dressed up for the night (yet minus their heels as so many Vegas girls end up doing from walking all night in new heels and have untrained feet) pushes their way into the elevator as the doors closed. One was drunkenly babbling about being mad at her boyfriend, and I really wasn’t paying attention until I heard one of the drunken girls say, “What room is he in? I’m gonna KILL him if there is someone in there!!” and proceeds to ramble out the exact room number I am going to. Oh lord. I double-check my phone to make sure that the long room number matches, and it definitely does. I’m stuck and can’t hit another floor number since I was first on, so I had to think of some sort of plan to not seem obvious.

The doors open and the girls barge their way out first and go towards the room but are met in the hall by two guys. I didn’t even really look down to that end of the hall, but I turned the other direction going towards some random room while fake fumbling through my purse. After fumbling for a minute I pick up my phone and call the service as I hear one of the girls at the end yelling, “I HATE YOU. I can’t trust you for anything! I wanna go in there… I know you got some hooker in your room!” I explained to the phone girl what was going on and she called the room. Yelling was still going on but the guy who answered the phone explained it was just him in the room and the argument was with his brother outside. I kept fumbling for an imaginary room key while talking and noticed the two drunken girls were now stomping towards me. Oh crap. They were still a ways off but had definitely passed their turn off to the elevator. I spoke a little louder on the phone, “Really, I have NO idea where the hell I put my key. I’m looking everywhere!”

The girls got about 5-10 feet away and I heard the more sober one mumble, “You don’t know if she is…” but pulled the angry drunken friend back when she heard me blabbing about my lost key. I looked up just in time to give some confused look, still babbling on the phone, and watch them head back to the elevators. Whew!

The girls eventually get on the elevators after yelling a few more incoherent things to the two guys, and I wander back down the hall towards the two guys and elevators (come to find out was the bachelor and father of the groom-to-be). I met them in the middle and said, “Wow I don’t know what that was but who called?” and they explain the entertainment is for the brother in the room, who apparently has been single for years and spent too much at the club for dances. This was a surprise for him, but since the bachelor and brother share a room the bride-to-be thought there was some hanky panky going on with the bachelor, not the future brother-in-law.
In the end? The call worked out fine with the brother (no angry drunken girl interruptions), and he made the whole mess clear to me. Come to find out the bachelorette party and bachelor party were doing their activities separately, but some smart member of the family had booked everything on the same floor in the hotel. So the bachelor was going to strip clubs, while the bachelorette was getting drunk and creating conspiracies that had her believing her fiancé was banging hookers back in the room.  I wonder how that marriage will turn out!