I Think That I Need to Turn in My Membership Card

Betty Friedan is probably rolling over in her grave. I might just have to forfeit my lifelong, gold-plated membership as a feminist. I still can't believe that I actually did it! What is the cause of such angst? Well, it is because of how we decided to spend part of our evening last night. This hardcore, dyed in the wool, staunch believer in all things feminist had a drink at the (gasp!!) Playboy Club here on the Las Vegas strip! Gloria Steinham, please forgive me and look kindly upon this your child.




It is important to understand that the objectification of women here in Vegas, particularly younger women, is one of the only things that is relentlessly eating away at me during this lovely respite away from reality. I am visibly uncomfortable when I espy women waitresses, dealers, and other hotel employees dressed in little more than an average Victoria's Secret catalogue model, while their male counterparts are fully clothed. I see college aged girls dotting the strip in full "skank" attire all in an effort to reel in the latest big fish for an evening "hook-up" and it unnerves me. So heading into Hugh's lair cut across every value that I hold near and dear. In spite of my reservations, The Husband, The Social Butterfly, his Ms. Sephora, and yours truly headed to the Palms Hotel for an after-show drink.

It turned into a true hoot!! First off, The Social Butterfly used all of his shmoozing abilities with the manager and got the four of us comped in. As we stood in line awaiting the private elevator that would whisk us up to the 55th floor, an imposing looking bouncer scanned the queue looking for underaged stowaways. I am about say something that I still cannot believe-I GOT CARDED!!! I wanted to kiss the kid full on his lips! He must have felt slightly moronic when he saw the year of birth was from before the Kennedy assassination! Still reeling from the stupidity of that situation, the four of us entered into very dark and very elegant club. After procuring drinks, we made our way to the windows to take in the spectacular city scape. The fact that there were actual Playboy Bunnies complete with ears and tails, dealing cards, serving drinks, and posing for pictures didn't escape our focus either.




As we stood there marveling at the absurdity of the situation, a nice looking guy started to hang around our small foursome. I am so oblivious, I believed that he was interested in the young girl to my right. After a short while, he disappeared into the crowd. My 3 drinking buddies all started to laugh and were convinced he was interested in me!! Nonsense, said I. They were adamant. Ms. Sephora said that he kept glancing over at me and giving the eye. I am so stupid and so very married that I can't even pick up on flirting signals anymore. OY! We laughed so hard it hurt.

I have always been a staunch opponent of Playboy and the lifestyle that it advocated. I have never been of the mind that it is just harmless fun because of the message that it sends to both men and women about what is and isn't acceptable treatment. Last night's foray into the lion's den did little to alter that perception, but it did show me a few laughs and it certainly stoked my ego a great deal. I just hope that Gloria will understand.







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