If a picture can say about a thousand words, then how many could a thousand pictures say?
Who doesn't understand the feeling of family members taking a bazillion photos with their cameras, everyone capturing the exact same moment in fear someone else's photo might not come out perfect.
A family reunion in Vegas seemed far more high-strung than when I went with my girlfriends. Why is that? Because you're always on edge when you're with your family, duh.
Ironically, the city of sin seems that much more sinful when you're with family. I think you notice the supposed "naughty" things more than if you went with a bunch of raunchy friends. It was definitely uncomfortable, making fun of the chicks who were all done-up in their skimpy outfits, when a couple months ago that would've been me and my friends.
My grandmother had no idea that 40 people were showing up to her birthday brunch. A smile was glued onto her face the entire time as she hugged people she hadn't seen in 20 years, including a waitress from her old restaurant.
Mr. Big was a bit overwhelmed, meeting all the family that will most likely be at our wedding in about seven months. Maybe he needed a Valium from my mother or some other recreational drug.
My aunt and uncles teased him, pop-quizzing him on their names and who was related to who. The best was when one of my half-aunt-cousins (not sure really what they are) was saying good-bye and hugged my brother, calling him by Mr. Big's name. My brother immediately broke down, saying "What?! C'mon, you know me! You know me!!" I almost peed my pants, I was laughing so hard.
Since it was Mr. Big's first time in Vegas, we had to jam-pack everything into one day. My brother, who is no stranger to the lucrative desert, showed us around and even walked with us up and down the Vegas strip. Believe me... It was a lot of walking.
A definite must-do is stopping inside The Mirage and visiting the baby dolphins and tiger cubs. The mini-zoo was very entertaining and worth the $15... Even if there weren't any ligers.
If you're like any normal person in Vegas, you'll probably stay up past midnight. That's a good thing, since there's a $4.99 prime rib and eggs meal offered between midnight-6 a.m. I don't remember much about that evening, but I do remember scarfing down that meal at 3 a.m.
Don't go to Margaritaville. That's where all the super tourists go. If this was the tropical heaven that Jimmy Buffett was talking about, I would punch him in the groin. Overpriced drinks and semi-decent appetizers are not worth $70. My brother kept razzing me about it: "You know why I never took you to Margaritaville? Because it sucks!"
One thing that didn't suck was the constant alcohol. Yes, I said it. So what - everyone has a drinking problem in Vegas. Don't judge me.
My brother was the constant supplier of booze, buying six-packs and 48 oz margaritas. The problem one night was buying Heineken and not having a bottle opener. The entertaining part was watching my brother-in-law try prying the lid off on the corner of a cement statue and it exploding all over the sidewalk. My sister walked away as to not be associated with the fiasco. Good times.
The last time I went to Vegas with family, my dad was obsessed with this 79 cent shrimp cocktail. When he picked us kids up at the airport, he even mentioned it again. While he didn't get a germ-infested shrimp cocktail off the street, he did enjoy the awesome 5-star seafood buffet at the Wynn. Since my dad can't drink (he's allergic to alcohol), he treated the boys to the buffet as a sort of pre-bachelor party for Mr. Big. Say it with me: Awww...
I'm not a very good gambler like my brother. I'm too down on myself if I lose. I was up $0.04 on the slot machines and tried convincing Mr. Big to walk away since we had technically won. But my grandma... she just didn't know when to walk away. She was pulling out twenties and working it like the rent was due. Unfortunately, she ended up with an empty wallet. It's a good thing that money was given by family members and didn't come straight from her pocket.