Fiction Time: Lisa's Vegas Journey!

A few days ago, a friend asked me if she'd told me about a strange incident she had at the Las Vegas airport. She said, "Ya know, the one with the butch lesbian? In the airport?" I said she hadn't told me, so she said that it was a must-hear story, but she had to tell me in person or else it would lose some of its luster. "But," she said,"I'd like to hear your version of what you think happened. It starts with a butch lesbian in the Las Vegas airport, and ends with my underwear setting off the metal detector."

Challenge accepted. I somehow had to fill in the gaps between the butch lesbian and the metal underwear. I opened up MS Word and just went to town without any forethought to the story. I changed her name in the story to preserve anonymity. Haha, just kidding, I totally used her real name. Here is what I came up with, in my first-ever fictional story on this site:

Lisa in Vegas

Lisa was sitting on her orange daffodil couch watching Scooby Doo re-runs and eating caramel rice cakes when she got a call on her landline. “Congratulations! You have just won a free iPod Nano!” Well, she thought it was too good to be true, and perhaps it was; two months previously, while browsing the web looking for new Santa Claus bed sheets, she had gotten the same message in a pop-up ad. When she clicked on it she found out that she had to become a secret shopper for a Don Horse’s Lubes ‘n’ Things franchise for a week to qualify. And she did not care for Don Horse one bit.

Still, she had a desperate desire for a new iPod after she inexplicably skipped hers across the lake, mistaking it for “the perfect skipping rock,” a week earlier. Her interest piqued, she listened for more information. She pressed 1 for English, and heard a recording telling her that if she simply went to Las Vegas, listened to a 9 hour presentation on a time share for a cabin in the Nevada desert, and used at least $50 on the slot machines, she would be eligible to be in a drawing for a chance to win a free iPod Nano!

So she packed her bags, making sure to take TEDDY WEDDY, and got ready. She wanted to impress the presenters, so she knew she would need to get all gussied up; she made sure to wear her best potato sack, elf ears, and Garfield slippers. “Oh, one more thing!” she said excitedly, “My platinum vajazzled lingerie!”

Upon getting to the airport, she realized she was hungry; she needed Sbarro. In her eyes, they made nothing but the best-ever pizza, and to-die-for pastas. She especially loved how bland it was and made her feel like puking while travelling through the air at mach 1. And so she ate. And so her destiny was set.

She got to Las Vegas, thinking of nothing more but finding the nearest restroom to expel the gurgling mass writhing in her stomach. She pushed through the crowd without bias; little kids and grandmas were fair game as her focus was narrowly set on getting to the restroom. About halfway to her destination she knocked over a tall, wide set woman, Butchtina Mann. Butchtina was visiting Vegas for the annual Female Lumberjacks’ convention, in which she was guest of honor for her work in the Canadian Redwood Forest; she really knew how to swing a chainsaw. But Butchtina did not mind getting toppled because, at that moment, lumberjacking was but a distant echo in her mind; all she could think about was the gorgeous potato sacked/elf eared/Garfield slippered slice of heaven that bounded so gracefully through the crowd. She had to meet her.

In Lisa’s haste, she had forgotten to close the restroom stall door, and so when Butchtina followed her into the restroom, she saw that Lisa was kneeling before the metal toilet in the Vegas airport. Butchtina entered the stall and slowly closed the door. “Is this seat taken?” Asked Butchina, to which Lisa replied, “Nblar shrrrvdd hhgguh.” To Butchtina, it was love. She sat on the toilet, spreading her legs wide to make room for her new friend. It was romantic the way that at the exact same moment Lisa vomited into the toilet, Butchtina would spit her chew into it. It was as if their brains were working as one. Or so Butchtina thought.

“Uhhh… What are you doing in here?” asked Lisa when she was finally finished with her Sbarro meal. “Sugarplum, don’t fight it. You’s and I both know we feel it.” And she went in for a kiss. Although it was hard for Lisa to resist, she was allergic to flannel, which Butchtina was donning from head to toe. Lisa crawled under the restroom door and out into the airport terminal, in a half-daze.

Being caught off-guard and reacting poorly to the flannel, all Lisa could think about was the iPod, so she headed straight for the meeting. Luckily, the presentation was being held in the airport smoking lounge which was right across the hall. As Lisa opened the door, smoke billowed out of the room. Everyone in the room stared at her as she walked in, annoyed looks on their faces; she was late! She cursed the airport-food gods and headed in to sit down. At that instant, Butchtina tackled her and put her in an inverted Indian deathlock. “I just love the chase, how’d you know, sugar britches?” Butchtina said, as tobacco-laced spittle peppered Lisa’s face. “You just sit tight, girl, I gots a present for you!” She climbed off of Lisa and reached into the front pocket of her flannel jacket and produced two airplane tickets. “You an’ me’s gonna go to Kansas City!” She hollered, holding out the tickets proudly.

A stroke of fortune! Lisa was from Kansas City! This was her chance - she’d come for the iPod Nano but had gotten much, much more. She knew she had to act fast to escape Butchtina’s muscley grasp, so she snagged the tickets from Butchtina’s nicotine-stained fingers and ran out the door. “Last chance, boarding for Kansas City.” The overhead speakers rang. What luck! This is exactly the break Lisa needed. She ran for the terminal with Butchtina hot on her trail. The airport attendants were just shutting the gate and Lisa was sure to barely make it. Just then the metal detector went off and a fat, sweaty man stepped in her way. As Lisa bounced off of him, she noted he smelled distinctly like Dr. Pepper. “Sorry, missy. Metal detector went off. I gotta give you a ‘special search.’”

Lisa had lost her chance. Butchtina had caught her. In her misery, she could only think one thing: Why did she have to pick today to wear her platinum vajazzled lingerie?!

The End.

Surprisingly enough, her real story was quite a bit different than what's above. She's supposedly going to write about the real events on her blog, but has yet to do so. If that happens, I'll link to the story so you can compare and contrast, but until then, watch out for those Vegas airports...