After reading my last post, I know you are all just DYING to hear more about my Wayne Newton encounter. Here it is, dudes:
The hubby and I have some friends that we've been to Vegas with several times. Every time we booked a trip there, I would preplan our entire vacation (shows, meals, spa treatments, sightseeing) in advance because I am a control freak and like to be the boss of anyone who will let me be.
During one of our trips, I decided that it would be fun to go and see Wayne Newton because after all, they don't call him Mr. Vegas for nothing. Right? Ummm....after the fact, I'm thinking "Mr. Plastic Who Wears A Girdle" might be a more appropriate moniker.
Anyhoo, on the day we went to see Wayne, I had to pick up the tickets at the theater box office. As I approached the window, a woman named Laverne was sitting there looking as if she was stuck in a cheesy casino time warp. She looked up at me and said, "Can I help ya, honey?" So I, in my best southern drawl said, "I sure hope so ma'am. I'm here to pick up my Wayne Newton tickets and I am such a HUGE fan (total crock of shit). I sure would appreciate it if you could get us some seats up close to the stage."
Of course, as I was speaking to her, I handed her a twenty dollar bill. Well, Laverne was so thrilled with my bribe, she gave us four tickets to the VIP section of Wayne's show. Whoo hoo!! This was going to be fun!!
Of course, the hubby and our friends did not share my sentiment. Actually, they couldn't believe that we were "wasting" a night in Vegas to see Grandpa Wayne. They were also quick to point out that everyone else at the show looked like they were whooping it up at a Fixodent convention.
As we made our way to the VIP seats, I started to panic. Holy crap!! Laverne gave us seats right in the front row....I mean, we could literally look up Wayne's nose (ick) from where we were seated....AND we noticed that as we walked to the front of the theater, the Geritol Posse seemed to be scowling at us because they were jealous of our seats. Like it or not, we knew that we had better pretend that Wayne Newton was the best thing since the invention of Ben Gay or risk being beaten with walkers and canes after the show.
Hmmm...Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.
About twenty minutes after we sat down, the lights finally dimmed. Suddenly, from the left side of the stage, this jet black helmet haired vampire man came charging toward us. He was so freaky looking that he actually scared me! I remember thinking, "Oh my God! What the hell happened to him?"
Just when I thought it couldn't get any more bizarre, it did. Wayne, clearly under the impression that we VIPs paid lots of money to sit in his "special" section (SOOOO not true), decided to focus all of his attention on us. He was all singing with his raspy dried up voice and gyrating with that nasty girdled torso RIGHT IN OUR FACES. I wanted to scream, "My eyes! My eyes! Make it stop! Please God, make it stop!" OK, OK, I'm being a bit dramatic here but, really...He was SCARYYYYY.
Anyway, as the creepy show progressed, I told the hubby that he HAD to take a picture of me near the stage. I had to capture the moment because I would NEVER torture myself, the hubby, and our friends like this again. So, I turned my back to the stage and this is the picture he took. Notice Wayne in the background:
Apparently, seeing a woman under the age of eighty in the front row got Wayne a little excited because the next thing I knew he ran up, grabbed me from behind, and PLANTED A BIG WET ONE right on my cheek. TRIPLE FREAKIN GROSS!
Chalk it up to another traumatic life experience that I'll probably need therapy for in the future.........