Vegas stories–what happened there

I’m home from the Vegas Book festival and back to my normal life of cooking, cleaning, and taking care of the little people. As usual my woodland friends are here to help. (Total lie. They never help.)DSC_0004

Anyway, I know that what happens in Vegas is supposed to stay in Vegas (along with all of your cash) but I had to tell you three stories. This is the first:

Okay, so I’m at the festival and I’d brought a couple of containers of yogurt along to stave off starvation. Then I found out that the festival had a lovely break room with awesome food for the authors–and the food there was way better than yogurt.  During a bit of free time between my panel and my signing, I went to the park next door and wrote. I noticed a homeless guy a ways off feeding the pigeons.

“Ahh,” I thought, “a nice homeless guy who is sharing what little he has with a bunch of birds. I should do something for him.” And then, feeling all warm and fuzzy and generous inside, I walked over to the homeless guy to offer him my yogurt. I thought it would be a poignant, charitable moment.

The guy took my yogurt and gave me a sly, one-toothed grin. (Seriously, he only had one tooth. So it’s a good thing I didn’t give him an apple.)

“So,” he said in a trying-to-be-debonair sort of way, “you’re CJ Hill.”

(Lest you think I’m famous, I was wearing a name tag.)

“Yep,” I said.

He winked at me. “Are you married?”

“Yes,” I said, wondering why this was his first question.

“Happily married?”

“Yes,” I said, realizing that the one-toothed homeless guy is indeed hitting on me.

“You ever been a swinger?”

“Um, no,” I said and turned to go.

“Ever thought about trying it?” He called to me as I headed back to my bench.

So yeah, that was my touching charitable moment.  Apparently in Vegas, you can lure men to you with yogurt. Now when I don’t think my husband is being romantic enough, I tell him, “Hey, I have yogurt and I know how to use it.”

Only in Vegas . . .




Vegas stories–what happened there — 12 Comments

  1. I was seriously laughing for five minutes straight! That’s so funny! And severely creepy…

    I always loved yogurt. If you ask me what my favorite food is, I will always say watermelon and yogurt!

    Maybe that guy wasn’t really homeless. Maybe he only had one tooth because he might have received one too many punches from the ladies he was hitting on. You know, kind of like “Hit the one who’s Hitting!”

    You should have took out the last one, Janette. You should have…

  2. Ha ha ha ha ha 🙂 Man, it takes a lot of gumption to hit on a complete stranger when you only have one tooth. About a month ago, my mom was in town and we were in the Walmart parking lot when a panhandler started hitting on her. He even did the whole “and this must be your sister” line when he saw me. I remember thinking, “Here I am, a grown woman, and he’s hitting on my mom right in front of me. How strange.” since usually people don’t hit on people if they have kids nearby… I guess not!

  3. Here’s a tip: If you want to get your house clean don’t call in woodland creatures. They’re useless. Get an actual princess. I hired Rapunzel to do mine. You’d be amazed what she can do between 7:00 A.M. and 7:15.

  4. Oh, my, that is one of the funniest attempts at picking up someone that I have ever heard. Did his tooth at least twinkle? Since we’re talking about fairy tales, his tooth should at least have had a little sparkle.

  5. Oh my stars! I could not stop laughing! That’s something you won’t forget soon 🙂 That’s got to be one of the best stories I’ve heard all day! Love it! And love your blog!

  6. Oh my goodness, JsquaredR! I laughed like crazy reading this. I would also like to know what home object you’re pushing in that photo (to leave out the cleaning garb comments). It looks like some 1950s space elephant vacuum of the future.

    And yes, it IS me! Missed you for so long! My own pickup story was at a mostly-deserted, small village train station in northern Italy. An older gentleman wanted to find out if I was single, then asked me to marry his son. When I politely refused, he asked, well then why not marry me? I again politely refused then fled to the snack bar inside. Glad I didn’t offer him any yogurt!

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