So back in 2013, some work friends, the Mrs and I headed to Vegas for fun, frolics and foolery. We had a blast. We tried out our American accents and used them to mingle with locals and barmen on every occasion.
Laura became Britney and I became Randy, whilst Abdul, Jack and Emily became Rodriguez, Jebidiah and Cynthia, respectfully. This carnival of hilarious, harmless alter egos were used to mask our Britishness whilst abroad; after all, what happens in Vegas stays there, right? We never shared these names beyond our group and never offended a soul with our brash, whimsical Americanisms.
(Left to right: Randy, Britney, Rodriguez, Jebidiah & Cynthia)
Pretty uneventful thus far, right?
Fast forward to 2016 and The Wife and I return to Sin City ourselves for more debauchery. The alter egos from yesteryear are long forgotten and we commence our memorable trip.
Our airport Über driver was Carl – no shit! So am I. We high fived. Our check in lady at The Mirage was a lady named Carli. We shared a smile (and scored an upgrade). Our late night room service was delivered by a Carlos. We nearly hugged. That was a bit weird… but I had hit a hat trick on my first day. Win!
Laura, feeling a little left out, was on the hunt for her namesake. It took days.
Four days later, we stopped for a bite at Gordon Ramsay’s BurGR in Planet Hollywood. An uber-enthusiastic female host soon showed us to our seats…
“Hi Guys, My names Britney and I’ll be your host…. ” she went on. I interrupted her, quick as a flash: “Oh my god! My wife’s name is Britney too!” Our host’s smile is now literally bursting from ear to ear as she turns to Laura “like oh my god,” she chirps “do you spell Britney E-Y or just Y?“.
Now this all happened in an instance. It would be so understandable if Laura wasn’t switched on or tuned in but on this occasion she was “E-Y; and you?”. Laura is instantly glowing too – she’s finally found her namesake! She caught onto the joke at full pace. Whoo! So the ‘two Britney’s joke about spelling their name the same way and we are left to our menus.
Our hyper, barbie-blonde waitress returns, still bubbling with enthusiasm. We place our order of burgers and beers before our host asks to see our IDs for the booze. Standard procedure in Nevada.
Laura and I lock eyes and freeze. This Britney stunt is about to go South, pretty fast. Laura pulls her ID out in slow motion and we both scan the real Britney’s face as she tries to make sense of Laura’s ID. We clock the exact moment when the realisation washes over our hostesses face. She’s been played. Our name-game has been rumbled. We’re her new least favourite customers of the day. Possibly the year.
The drinks return and are slammed on our table, there was no return check up and when the bill eventually arrived it just fell onto the empty space on our table. We had the coldest service we have ever received across the pond.
We felt terribly awkward for the rest of meal. We never played the game again.
The very next day we went to enjoy an escape game at Countdown Live Escape Games, Las Vegas. We were locked in a room for an hour with a lovely American couple. One was named Carl. We shook hands.
Laura’s still searching for her match.
Check out my other Travel Fails HERE. When you’re me this kind of thing happens regularly, obviously….
WITH THANKS TO:
ANTHONY QUINTANO (MAIN IMAGE)
Do you have any embarrassing Sin City stories you can’t wait to share? Ever accidentally offended somebody whilst abroad? I’d love to hear your stories. Comment below or get in touch via email.