Just got back from Vegas and am quite proud of myself. Left with a net profit of FOUR, yes count 'em FOUR big bills....imagine my pride when I left the casino with an extra FOUR crisp ten dollar bills! Ten feet tall and bulletproof is how I felt I will tell you. What was most interesting to me is what men think about women in Vegas. I was there for work. I know what you Lil piggy wigs are thinking, but yes, legitimate bonafide, bone crushing and mind numbing work. On my way out, I was stuffing my suitcase in the overhead bin with less than Herculean results. I was concerned I was going to bean a older Norman Rockwell looking Some body's Grandpa in the head. Told him to tuck and cover upon landing as I needed to retrieve my bag. He immediately turned icky and thanked me for letting him look down my top. As we checked into the hotel, my boss and I walked to the elevator banks and he walked directly to the doors, The Palms security stopped me and asked me for my room key. My boss, snickering, told me they thought I was a hooker which is why they stopped me. Finally, I met a bunch of nice boys in town for a bachelor party. They invited me up to their suite which I declined. A couple of women approached me and chastised the boys for not buying me a drink, and they said they would fix this situation. I declined, and the women said, well you are coming up to the party right? I said no, I was playing blackjack. They said, well how do you expect us to dance for all these men???? They were strippers and thought I was also a stripper. Where men and money are located in such great numbers, are women always so devalued? Do we become a commodity to be screwed, ogled and perform obscene acts with bananas? I felt dirty. I feel angry. As far as we have come as women, we still are objectified. We make less than men, our dry cleaning is more expensive, our upkeep is more (hair cuts, color, makeup, botox). As my birthday just passed, I feel my expiration date as a commodity is drawing nearer. It angers me that as women age, they become invisible and men become more attractive. I begin to panic that I am still single and contemplate settling for a guy before I start to look like Dog the Bounty Hunter because then I will be royally screwed. Vegas is just LA on steroids and the same rules apply here. As much as I would like to deconstruct the dominant paradigm, I am off to have a salad for lunch and will continue to shave my pits and do my hair.