In which I got thrown out of my first club ever --at 36!

I knew it would happen eventually--but I have to admit that I thought it the back of my head that maybe, just maybe, I had managed to reach middle age and thereby bypassed this particular rite of passage.

But no. Not so much. At age 36, I finally got thrown out of a club. Thursday nite, Amy arrived late and I met her for drinks at the EyeCandy bar at Mandalay Bay, where she was with Rich, who went scuba diving in Belize with us last year. He lives in Vegas and had brought her from the airport. We hung out there a short while, then went in search of new entertainment. We had not been in town long, so it is important that you understand we were perfectly sober.

We ended up at the Forty Deuce, a burlesque club. See here http://www.fortydeuce.com Since it was Thursday nite, the show was Royal Jelly, which means they have rock music instead of the regular jazz and other burlesque type stuff.

First, we were asked outside the club whether we were there from so and so modeling agency. What the hell kind of question was that? Sure, Amy could have been, but who was I supposed to be--her troll manager? Please. Anyway, they decided we should be sent in with VIP bands to have a table by the stage. Note, bar 1 where we paid no cover--in fact, we did not pay one all weekend other than a tiny one at the Dueling Pianos bar. The place was so freaking crowded though that we never could make our way to the front--it was wall to wall people. The place is not very big anyway--only holds a couple of hundred people, and 80% of them were guys of course.

The show started just after we arrived, and it was SO good. Even on the website, where they show the photo gallery, the photos do not do these girls justice. They were stunning. This was not a strip club, so they did not get nekkid, just danced in costumes, usually a bikini type thing. This was pure performance though, and these girls were amazing athletes. Not at all what I thought this kind of show would be like--I was totally impressed. The music was awesome, it was really neat.

We were standing watching, when a group with a table asked us to come sit with them--I happened to be at the bar when the request was made, but met Amy on the way back. Off we went to sit with these business men who had table service. There was plenty of room--they had a corner round table and small booth with room for 5 or 6, plus the standing room there--and only two guys were sitting there. We sat down, and it was not a minute or two before a guy who must have been with them said something to the man who had invited us, but we could not hear what he said. I asked the inviter what that was about--and he said that the complainer was whining that we were there, as he had invited other women to sit with them--and we were not them. Note, those women were not there either. We all agreed that if they showed up, we would give up our spots--no big deal at all.

Or so we thought. Keep in mind that no one has asked us to leave at all and we had in fact been invited to sit there--by the owner of the table. The complainer was his client. Next thing we know, some tool bouncer grabs Amy and tells her she has to leave, as we are not wanted there. She could not get a word in edgewise before he was hustling her out of there--

What the hell was going on, I wanted to know? I guess he said something to her that made her realize that the complainer had the bouncer come remove us, which infuriated her, so she called him an Australian asshole--which he was.

Before I could get myself gathered, this fool bouncer had picked her up--all six feet of her, and was shoving her out of the club. She was telling him she would leave, and he is screaming at her, saying he is throwing her out and calling her a stupid bitch. He had his arms wrapped around her from behind, and was kneeing her behind the legs to keep her from getting any traction.

I had never seen anything like that in my life. He not only hauled her out of the club, he hauled her halfway to the casino and threatened to call the police on her. I was trying to catch up, still wondering what had happened, when the bouncer turned around and called me a stupid f%&($ bitch too! I had not said a single word. I was still in shock that this was really happening. Amy on the other hand was HOT, she was so pissed--and who could blame her after being treated like that.

The worst part of the story was that she lost her $7 beer over the whole thing.

We spent the rest of the nite laughing at it--actually the rest of the weekend. It was so absurd, I cannot believe that we have known each other for close to 18 years and gotten in plenty of trouble, and here I am, an old hillbilly woman, and we get thrown out of our first club together.

And of all the clubs it could have been, it had to be this one--because in a funny twist of fate, a good friend of Amy's has business with the owner. You know how those Hollywood people are- all kinds of connections all over the place.

What a hoot. This was only our first nite.

And not the last club our party was thrown out of.

We are like the older less trashy version of the Bad Girls Club--minus kicking each other's asses, that is.