So how did this guy:end up with and fall so deeply in love with this guy:
Beats me. It has to have something to do with having terrific luck, as it certainly wasn't common interests in music.
On Rob's "bucket list" was to see a Madonna concert live. Now, I do not enjoy Madonna's music. I appreciate her support for our rights, but I'm sorry, Madonna; I'll not try to account for my taste. I took a bullet yesterday and we went to her concert in Vegas (yes, this was very similar to our Cher experience but Rob promises me he didn't know Madonna was coming when he forced me to see Cher in Vegas months ago).
First, a couple things about our room: Notice anything odd about this list of outrageously priced minibar items?
After an exhaustive search, we finally found it, just above the m & ms and next to the soda (note: not because we were in the market, but out of pure scientific curiosity). For all those as Pollyanna-ish as us, it turns out a $25.00 "intimacy kit" fits into a 3 inch black cube, and is, perhaps contrary to one's intuition, kept refrigerated. Other than those facts, we dared not touch it to better determine the contents by weight and so on, but I still wonder how they packed intimacy in there.
Next, look who was peaking through our window all day and night:
Utah's own Donny and Marie.... Um, yeah... it was kind of unnerving.
Anyway, Rob had been waiting for this for months and, when he bought the tickets, he didn't check the arena's seating diagram. The only seats left (the sale of which wouldn't necessitate involving a loan officer) were these:
Madonna looks much shorter in real life.
At least Rob had a good time. I spent the concert trying not to grimace too apparently, but my man knows me. When it was done he told me I was a good husband for the sacrifice; that made it worth the trip for me.
One thing though, I figured out the best analogy I can think of for Las Vegas. She's like a beautiful, drunk woman who keeps hitting on me. I know she's pretty; I know other men would be all over her, but me? I'm just not Vegas-oriented and I find her come-ons to be, well, annoying. And look girl, even if I was into that sort of thing, I think you got some personal issues; I mean, your streets are littered with pictures of naked women, you come off as desperate, and, frankly, you smell like an ash tray. I'm just say'n; get some help.
That city is impressive in it's marketing and artifice, but it can really get to me, between the pensioners throwing money down the drain to build up fake statues of liberty, and the impromptu weddings, where our 16-years together mean nothing to the city.
We were walking down the strip before the concert and I was trying to keep from showing my discomfort, in the hope of not bringing Rob down in the midst of one of his dream events. But he turned to me and said, "After this, let's not come to Vegas again." See, even despite Madonna, we're a great match :-).