As the week went on and the crowds increased, it reminded me of how things were several years ago. Back in the old days, Friday and Saturday afternoons brought frequent bottlenecks where the crowds would swell to the point where you literally couldn’t move forward. There were a few spots where that happened this year, too. It may have been due solely to the smaller footprint in the hall itself, but I think there may have been an uptick in attendance, too. It seemed like all of Vegas was busier than it was in 2010. [Well, that’s not saying much, seeing as how 2010 sort of looked like a scene out of an old Gunsmoke episode. Attendance did seem much better, however.]
As always, I looked forward to the stage name Lucky picked for Lon and I, and this year we were Heather boys: Lon Vuur and Steve Vandeven. It would have been great if all three of us could have gotten together for a picture like we did a few years ago when we teamed with Juli as the Three Ashtons, but alas, there was no Heather to be found. [Heather being rather the pragmatic sort, she was off shooting for an independent movie this year. She’s also starring in a pilot for a “cable” news show about the industry, and we’re going to get to that story … um … sometime.]
Much of our time away from the convention was spent at the new British pub at the Riv. [You’re all stunned, right?] It worked out pretty well for our big, sometimes rowdy crew, because they had a back room that kept us separate from the other patrons. [Someone must have warned them.] Maverick helped guide us through the unusual fare (toad in a hole, anyone?), but I came away with my original opinion pretty much intact: it’s just not my favorite type of food. [And yet Steve spent hours enjoying it when Shayla, Cytherea, and Cheyenne happened to be at the table. That must be a coincidence.] I think next year we need to come up with a Risque member from Italy or Mexico so we can hang out at a restaurant honoring their heritage. And while we’re at it, let’s make it a female member. See if you can make that happen, okay, Lucky? [Hey we can all stay at the Venetian next year, so long as Steve foots the bill for everyone. They have a lot of excellent restaurants. … Oh, Steve has to pay for those too.]
One night was reserved for the annual DVD giveaway. Every year, Lucky and DM bring a big box of recent DVDs they’ve received in advance of the Awards nominations, and let us civilians take turns picking. Mav was the winner this year, drawing the coveted number one position out of a hat. As he was eyeing the pile, however, deciding which one he wanted most, Cytherea and Cheyenne realized what we were doing and wanted to be part of it, too. Who can refuse two such beautiful women? Not us, that’s for sure. So Cy became 1a, Cheyenne 1b, and poor Mav was now 1c. [Poor Mav. He needs to take “Beat Myself Up” lessons from Gibby, and then we might not pick on him as much. Maybe.] I was back in the sixth spot, but it didn’t matter as much to me because I’d already been awarded a special Speed boxed set for some goofy limericks I’d written a while back. Definitely the best thing I’ve ever received for anything I’ve written. [All he wants now is PORN? Wow. Now I wish we had put this story up earlier in the year. Steve’s going to be a busy, busy boy.]
