When Lisa Carver posted this video on my Facebook feed, I was at work so I couldn’t watch it. Nevertheless, once she told me about the Groupon I immediately agreed to accompany her on a Las Vegas party bus club tour, no matter what it may be.
After I got home, I watched the video and immediately began wondering what I should wear. Which brings me to the first thing I wish I’d known about being on a party bus.
1. Wear something you can twerk in.
My first–and biggest–mistake of the evening was not making sure my ensemble was twerk-ready. I’ve never been clubbing on the Strip before, nor have I been in the company of those who twerk in other circumstances. Well, aside from my daughter, but I’m in hysterical denial about that.
I just turned 49, and for some stupid reason I let that influence my outfit. I dressed way more modestly than I should have. I didn’t plan ahead and do laundry, so underneath my tasteful, knee-length a-line skirt I was wearing granny panties. The kind that are ugly but they’re practical because they don’t leave any lines. I wasn’t even wearing a skirt that showed enough for that to matter, but there I was wearing them anyway.
Most of the other people on the bus were women, and they came prepared. They were hardly wearing any clothes. Next time I’m on a party bus, I assure you I will not be, either.
2. Wear comfortable shoes.
One thing to know about clubs on the Strip is you aren’t allowed to sit down unless you pay exorbitant amounts of money to do so. I wore reasonably comfortable stiletto platforms, and Lisa wore uncomfortable four-inch heels. I brought back-up flip-flops in my giant mom purse. This was good, because Lisa ended up wearing them for most of the night. It was bad, however, because guess who was the only one on the dance floor in the club with a bag that is large enough to contain baby wipes? In my defense though, the chancla is also my weapon of choice.
3. Keep up with the Kardashians.
Have you ever had one of those epiphanies where you realize you’re being a judgmental asshole about something for no good reason? I’ve had a lot of them, and my Kardashian breakthrough is just the most recent. I have never seen an episode of that show. Aside from my steadfast belief that O.J. Simpson is really Khloe’s biological father and my desire to see them inevitably pull that rabbit out of the hat when their ratings dip, I have not kept up with the Kardashians at all. Lisa, however, does not feel the same way. She’s a fan of the show, and thank god for that because she was able to fill me in on everything I was missing before we arrived at OOAK.
The thing that’s important to know about the nightclub OOAK is the acronym stands for “one of a kind,” and there are two of them: one in Las Vegas and one in New York. Apparently, the storyline occasionally revolves around Scott Disick falling off the wagon in this club, where h sometimes DJs. For many years now I have been deliberately repeating the phrase “Scott Disick cocaine” into my husband’s iPhone to mess up his targeted Facebook ads, so it felt serendipitous to end up in this club. If you don’t wear your glasses, as I did not, some of the club’s patrons look just like Scott Disick.
4. Skip the final club and Uber directly back to OOAK.
By the time you arrive at the second club, where the evening ends, the dance floor will be so packed that it will be closed. Security will not let you near it. That’s because everyone wants to be on the dance floor for the big DJ moment when they drop the confetti and do a light show. You’ll just end up standing behind security, watching it.
Afterward, you’re on your own, and how you get back to your car is your business. Why doesn’t the party bus take you back to where you parked in the first place? Are they that confident you’re going to score at the final club?
We didn’t get on the stripper poles in the bus while we had the chance because we didn’t realize that would be our last opportunity to do so. I took one quick spin on my way out, but there wasn’t enough room to do much of anything on the poles. At least not without injuring other passengers with your high-heels. The pole and twerking remorse alone has me wanting to get back on a party bus.
5. Prepare to walk the gauntlet.
It would be incredibly easy to score at the club if one wanted to do so, because in order to leave you must first walk past the bar where all of the men who have failed to hook-up and are desperately trying to close the deal are located. Walking through that corridor of desperation was not unlike attempting to stroll down a quaint cobblestone road in a Mexican tourist trap, only to have competing vendors descend upon you trying to sell you their wares.
All in all, the club tour and party bus was a pretty fun experience, but it could definitely have been improved upon had I known then what I know now. If I end up on a party bus again, I am going to plan ahead and buy some kind of crazy silver hot pants tube top deal. Maybe next year, for my 50th birthday.