What Stays In Vegas…

What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas…except when with Sisterella, Middle Chicken and her doll, Lawyer Boy.

Shows, good food, drink and be merry. Oh and meet Bethenny. Yep, that Bethenny. The New York mouth that never stops. The woman talks so fast her words could outrun a cheetah.

Meandering through The Palazzo and my little eye spies the one who copied Luanne’s hair. The brain says, “That girl looks like Bethenny.” Closer, closer, closer. “Bethenny. You guys, that’s Bethenny,” blurts the mouth.
Past us she lilts, hand in hand with her beau, which if tabloid fodder is to be believed, is still wed. Pot, kettle Beth dear?

Sisterella isn’t keeping still. It’s not in her nature. She takes off after the famous one. Twice, there is no answer to her, “Bethenny?” She catches up, “Bethenny could we take a picture?”

“Make it really quick. We’re in a hurry,” says the New Yorker. “We’re on our way to brunch,” she informs. I run in last second. The shot is snapped and off she goes in a blur of white. She is neither loud nor unkind–her usual hallmarks. We did follow her request and silently acknowledged she was, in fact, in a rush. In her defense, it was we who accosted her. Two strange old ladies requesting a photo as she walks through a Vegas hotel with her may or may not be married boy toy.

We walk on, laughing at the meeting. “Of course, she’s busier than the rest of us,” quips Middle Chicken. True. Bethenny does point out frequently that she is busier than the rest of the world. And everything she’s busy with is much more important than whatever drivel may fill your days. De Riguer for Housewives. Talking to you Heather Dubrow. Drinking champs and pointing to pizza ovens is not exhausting no matter how hard you try to convince us.

On return, I tell River Rafter Girl, a Housewives aficionado and witness to the Vanderpump shenanigans in LA. Her daughter labels me The Housewife Whisperer. It is funny that summer trips this year are littered with housewives. Especially given that I count the Wives amongst the most delish of guilty pleasures.

The scoop on New York’s Mouth? Sisterella is a bigger Beth fan than myself. This girl finds her mean and self-involved. So I must give it up that she is nicer than I thought she might be. Thin, but not as thin as she looks on the show. Same height as me: 5-6. The hair is cuter than Luanne’s. Her head is small. The voice is unmistakable. And she has very soft skin. I know this because I touched her arm bracing for a possible fall flailing myself into the picture. Didn’t have time to ask what moisturizer creates such skin. After all, she is busier than me. You know, with brunch and all.

Me, I was just on the way to catch a plane. Pfft.


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