OK here it is- the story of how the drink ended up on my jeans (and this is breaking the major vegas rule: what happens in Vegas-stays in Vegas) After D did the skyjump (sheesh) I was feeling a tad anxious (ya think?). So I had a hurricane (thats a double rum shot slurpee style and size drink) And since Nevada is lax on any type of rules or laws, I was drinking the aforementioned hurricane as we were driving.
Well D was driving, I was drinking, and drinking (well it was warm there) and drinking (did I mention I was thirsty?) Anyway, we are zipping along on the strip, by now Im light headed and laughing like a freak, and someone cuts in front of the car creating a sensory alert that resulted in D slamming on the brakes. Oy. Next thing I know the drink is airborne, smacks the dash, both the top & the bottom of the cup burst open and I had a gusher of rum slurpee on my thigh and back pocket. Plus a wack of it landed on the floor mat of the rental car.
D pulls into a gas station and asks me clean it. Of course I'm laughing so hard he has to take over. When we get back to the hotel I had to walk thru half the casino with a big wet spot on my pants. Good thing the room had that handy blow dryer.
