When self-care lit*er*al*ly involves half-naked men

Truth Serum Tell #9

As the female MC be-bopped around the tables, she caught my eye.

Me: “Are they really playing?” I ask, pointing at the shirtless Hawtie on A Stick tickling the piano keys a few feet from me, while a girl reclined on top.

(Yes, he’s really playing the piano; Yes, that Roman Reigns look-alike is really playing the drums. And yes, there’s a dude somewhere in there really singing)

FMC: “They are! Are you celebrating something?” she asks.

Me, nodding: “Birthday.”

FMC: “You wanna go up?” she asks, pointing over her shoulder at the stage.

I see how the guys are picking up the girls and taking them down to the floor. I may look cute in my striped babydoll sundress and shiny beige go-go booties, but no one needs to see my geometric-patterned Thunderpants (not to be confused with Thundercats #Hoooooooo or Captain Underpants)

Me, shakes my head vigorously.

FMC: “No problem. Happy birthday! Hope you’re having a great time,” she laughs, holding up her hands before be-bopping away.

I am.

She pulled two other women up on stage, both celebrating birthdays: the white woman is 50-something (like me) and the black woman is 60-something (although she didn’t look it, because SPOILER ALERT: black don’t crack).

I wish I’d had the nerve to go up because those women got a little celebratory slow dance with a couple of hawt guys. The guy the black woman ended up with is the Hawtie of the Group who said something sexy as fuck in his native sexy as fuck foreign language.

Hawtie of the Group is front and center with the Female MC. His name is Anton Engel

A birthday announcement.

A simple dance.

And a kiss on the knuckles before being led offstage. I could’ve handled that.

Such is the “magic” of Magic Mike Live in Las Vegas.

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Welcome to Lit*er*al*ly, Ororo, a weekly blog by me, Ororo Munroe. You are reading Truth Serum Tells, posts about deeper life shit. No needles or toxic, mind-bending drugs were used to write these posts. Thanks for reading.

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When I was trying to figure out what I wanted to do to celebrate 50+ years around the sun this year, my first thought had been Costa Rica. I actually want to move there eventually and am following someone on IG who offers relocation tours to melanin peoples. I’d contacted her, got a quote for the trip, and posed the trip to my family members, thinking we’d all pitch in and share the cost.

They were all down for it.

Until they weren’t.

So, I switched gears. I still wanted to go somewhere for my birthday and thought of Vegas. And how I wanted to check out Magic Mike show. I’d seen all the movies (except for this last one) and had heard that Channing Tatum had started something there.

Plans decided.

I had initially told my sister, her BFFs, and even my BFF about my plans, thinking it’d be a Girls’ Trip. But the more I thought about it, the less I liked.

I’d have to share a room (possibly a bed) with my sister. I already do that when she comes over to stay the weekend with me at my parents’ house. Fuck that shit!

I’d have to walk the strip every night and despite the people-watching opp, I wasn’t interested in getting my steps in or dealing with crowds on par with Times Square #introvertedempathnightmare

Someone would inevitably want to check out slot machines and I don’t gamble or have the desire to stand around inhaling secondhand smoke.

Someone would inevitably want to go to a nightclub, and while I lurve to dance, that’s not my scene anymore.

All in all, it sounded like too much “peopling”. And for someone like me (Introverted Empath lady, right here), this celebratory Girls’ trip was starting to feel exhausting.

So I made the executive decision to go by myself.

Completely.

By.

Myself.

I needed to relax and recharge and, surprisingly, it’s easy to do so in Vegas.

Especially when half-naked men are involved.

The MML show is at the Sahara Hotel, so I made sure to book a room there. The venue for the show is set up like a jazz club (and the guys use nearly every part of it: bar top, the balconies, a mini zip-line, and shit comes down from the ceiling!); there were tables and chairs, but also couches. I sat close enough to see, but not get pulled up on stage or singled out for a lap dance.

I sat on the couch (see purple highlighted circle). I ended up sitting next to a group of young adult Asian boys. LOL

The view from my seat

The infamous Piano Scene in the video above

Shenanigans happened on that bar back there.

If you’ve seen the Magic Mike movies, you will ABSOFUCKINGLUTELY LURVE THIS SHOW!!! Kudos to Channing Tatum (who’s only part of the show as a voiceover) for creating such a spectacularly professional production. And these men and women are definitely professionals. How do I know?

They do two shows a night, Fri-Sun.

And two shows a night twice a week.

I was amazed at the energy during my show (730pm), I can’t imagine having to do it all again at 10pm the same night.

Also, they got aerialists!!! (I’ve never used so many exclamation points in one post)

This part of the show was one of the best parts of the show.

You can’t just pull any John or Jane Q Public off the street to perform this shit mid-air. You need to have professionals.

This one black dude did a leap that screamed ballet dancer. I saw an interview he did on the MML IG page and yep, guess confirmed: professional dancer.

When these guys weren’t workin’ the stage, they wandered the crowd looking for laps to grind on. The safe word was “unicorn” if you didn’t want to engage.

I’m gonna let you guess how many times this word was used.

If you guessed none, then you’d be correct.

At the end of the night, I checked out the little merch area. Not gonna lie, I wanted to buy all the things: sweatpants, sweatshirt, T-shirt, hat (and I don’t even wear baseball hats), booty shorts… but I reeled myself in and just bought a sticker and a black T-shirt.

I wear this shirt a lot. It gets softer every time I wash it.

I ended the night with a way tasty lobster roll from Chickie’s and Pete’s that I ate in my room and reading in bed.

On my actual birthday, June 5th, the night’s entertainment was Thunder from Down Under at the Excalibur Hotel and Casino.

These guys are only good for stripping, not dancing.

I was not impressed by the hotel, which pretty much set the tone for the rest of the night. I’m sure they were trying for Ren Fair décor but ended up with Ye Olde Tavern instead. I don’t know how old that hotel is, but it just seemed… rundown. Like it needed a makeover/complete reno/something <Calls Chip and Joanna Gaines to tell them about their next project>.

The Thunderland Showroom is very deceptive. It’s upstairs in the back, off in a corner near an eatery. From the outside, you’d think it was a small, intimate space like the MML place.

Yeah.

Not even.

Purple arrow is pointing at my exact seat

You can see how many people they can cram in there.

400 seats.

12 shows a week.

The guys not only dance on the stage, but they dance on that circular stage thing you see there in the middle, as well as on the tables (long rectangles). There’s also a bar in the back.

So, here’s the tea on this show. Sis and I went to see the touring group at a local casino here. Incredibly small, intimate space, btw. You can get your pics taken with the guys (for a price, of course, cash only) and, unlike MML, they don’t let you record the show (which is a good thing, to be honest, because they know their show ain’t shit and can’t compete with MML). I only wanted a pic with the MC because he was the hawtest one of the group. Overall, I wasn’t impressed with the show. Like, at all.

I wanted to see this Vegas show, thinking it would be different. I mean, the MC made a big deal about how long they’ve been on the Strip (2001) and how they got keys to the city… yadda-yadda-whooptie-whoo… I was ready for these guys to BRING IT! Because, y’know, VEGAS, BABY!

Sadly, they did not.

Granted, there were more hawt guys in this group than the touring one we saw, including the MC. The problem, with both shows, is the dancing.

Shocking, I know.

They get these guys with fabulous bods, who maybe have rhythm when dancing naturally (read: nightclub), but don’t have any experience in DANCE (aka choreographed routine). There’s a difference, believe me.

At times, they were either off beat or didn’t know the steps at all and just half-assed it to get to the stripping part.

So disappointing. And unimpressive.

I wanted my money ($70 and change)—and my birthday time (90 minutes)—back!

But that’s the difference between the Thunder, Chippendales (Lordt, this show was scandalous! Like, hold-a-towel-against-his-junk scandalous <blushing>), and Magic Mike Live: professionalism.

I consoled myself with a jumbo chocolate-covered strawberry from Hershey’s Chocolate World and went back to read for the rest of the night.

Overall, it was very relaxing birthday. Just what I needed.

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SIDE NOTE STORY

I know what you’re thinking, “So what else did you do while you were there?”

I didn’t do fuck-all, people!

I had my birthday dinner at Wolfgang Puck’s restaurant in the MGM Hotel: linguine and clams. I’ve never had pasta so fresh in my life.

And the day before I left, I checked out Café Lola in the Forum shops at Caesar’s Palace. I had their spinach and feta quiche with an iced strawberries and cream matcha. Way tasty. I don't remember that place being so vast and beautiful. Like being on the set of Clash of the Titans or something.

After eating at Lola’s, I walked around the shops and discovered this art gallery full of AMAZEBALL artwork.

And this other place that had crystals, jewelry and recycled metal art. Check out the metal art tab. Like, for real. Especially the life-size art. He had that life-size Predator in the front window and if that thing had moved, I seriously would’ve needed a new pair of undies.

Other than that, I just ate in my room and read in bed. I was there for only three days but I really needed that downtime.

I saw this quote in a recent Freelancing Females newsletter and it seemed timely:

“Time and health are two precious assets that we don’t recognize and appreciate until they have been depleted.” -Denis Waitley

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