She's all shook up over Vegas
BY CELIA RIVENBARK
The desk clerk at the Bellagio in Las Vegas warned us about the minibar.
“Be careful; it's hypersensitive,” he said. “It can detect the slightest motion.”
Because Duh-hubby and I share an irrational disdain for overpriced snack foods, we gave the desktop minibar a wide berth once we got in our gorgeous lake-view room.
Brushing by the minibar to play with the electronically controlled drapes (I'm Clampett enough to keep opening and closing them, of course) Duh fairly shrieked at me.
“You're getting too close to the minibar! Didn't you hear what the man said? You want to spend eight bucks for a pack of peanut M&Ms? Do you?”
Hmmm. Maybe this whole renewing of wedding vows for our 20th anniversary wasn't such a good idea.
Duh was so paranoid that he looked like Tom Cruise in “Mission Impossible” when he back-flips to dodge those laser thingies. Seriously? Army-crawling on the carpet to avoid setting off insanely overpriced Fiji water?
Our first trip to Vegas was an eye-opener and I don't just mean that cool electric drapes thing. For starters, it's in the middle of nowhere. There are desolate mountains, endless expanses of desert and then – ka-boom! – it's GIRLS! GIRLS! GIRLS! and All-U-Can-Eat Crab Legs!
Cruising across town in our “complimentary” stretch limousine to the Graceland Wedding Chapel to renew our vows before Elvis, we had to wait for a heatstroke victim to be loaded into an ambulance while a tourist drinking rum punch from a life-size plastic guitar with a straw attached stopped to take pictures. Second weirdest sight: An attractive woman limping into a casino wearing a leg cast and high heels.
It's hot in Vegas but, as they like to say, it's a dry heat. When we arrived to renew our vows at the fabulous Graceland Wedding Chapel (“Where Jon Bon Jovi and Billy Ray Cyrus got married” – it should be noted, not to each other), we were wilting faster than our $7 airplane salads.
We'd timed it so we'd renew our vows at the same exact time we did 20 years ago. Elvis, never breaking character, grabbed what looked like a Mr. Microphone and sang “Can't Help Falling in Love With You” then raced from his pulpit to walk me down the aisle, toss me toward Duh and then resume his preacher-post.
Duh vowed to “Love Me Tender” and I vowed to never send him to “Heartbreak Hotel.” Afterward, Elvis presented us with our marriage certificate and a replica of his and Priscilla's. Before he could leave the building, I praised Elvis's black sparkly jumpsuit.
“Had to smash up a Trans Am or two to make this one, darlin',” he said. And then, as quickly as he'd arrived, he was gone. It was magical, hons. Not as magical as those electric drapes but close, very close.
