The One Without a Happy Ending

What happens in Vegas…

I was rounding the corner to head up the elevator. I’m at the Las Vegas NBA Summer League and was heading to my room after a run down to the casino for… nope, not gambling, Starbucks. I’m sure that would make my father proud, a venti Pike connoisseur himself. Although I think my mom would have stopped to play some slots.

Anyways, I’m rounding the corner when I hear someone call my name, “John!”

I turn around and it’s a lady.

I’m going through my head to figure out how I know this person. Does she work with our team? (we’re always hiring new people and not telling anyone) Is she the spouse of one of our staff or players? Does she work for another team?

I’m starting to feel bad that I don’t know her when she says… “Would you like a massage with a happy ending?”

It took me a moment to figure out what was happening.

But oh yes, I’m in Vegas, so it’s not too out of the realm of questions to be asked.

I’m not quite like Joseph in the Bible who likely would have thrown his Starbucks to the ground and ran to the elevator.

Instead, I started asking questions like, “Why? You don’t even know me.”

She continued her proposition. I continued questioning her tactics. She persisted. And I continued asking questions.

She even knew my name! How?!!

Oh yes, she’s a professional… and I’m holding a Venti Sweet Cream Cold Brew with my name on it.

Maybe some people like the aggressive tactics… straight to the happy ending. I’m more of a, let’s grab a cup of coffee and take a walk kind of guy. When she could tell her promises of a massage and happy ending weren’t getting through to me… she took it up another level and another level and another level…

Obviously, my Why questions were getting nowhere.

So I slid into the casino door with my key card and headed up to the elevator, making sure she wasn’t able to follow me.

Some people say, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, but for me… well, what happens in Vegas ends up on my blog.