Guest Column: Summer the Stripper Writes “Only in Vegas”

Only in Las Vegas, Nevada, would you see a man’s privates in public before dinnertime, and whether you did happen to see said man’s now public privates, there’s a good chance it would be on Tropicana Boulevard.

A few weeks ago I was driving down Tropicana from the office of a service that offers “strippers to your room,” when on the opposite side of the road, I saw a man in his fifties with only sweatpants on and his shirt laying on the ground. Reluctantly standing next to that guy was a man who picks up the trash for the Wild Wild West Casino and Truck Stop who was trying to do his job of emptying out the trash barrels along the road and parking lot of the property. He couldn’t do his job very well, though, since the half naked man was yelling at him, pushing him, and thereupon suddenly trying to hug him, as whether to say, “I’m sorry. That was

wrong of me.” He’d go through that process, by and by – yelling, pushing, soon after apologizing.

The craziness with the casino janitor was interrupted, though, when the half-naked man suddenly decided to walk away from the worker, stop traffic on Tropicana, and yell at a car before returning to the sidewalk. After getting out of the road, he proceeded to pull down his sweatpants and reveal his shriveled privates to all who were watching.

The best timing by a cop I have ever observered was when a Metro officer pulled up on the curb just as that nut pulled his pants down. The now naked man had the most shocked look on his face when he realized he was caught red handed with his pants down. Literally. Mind you… that was all before 2:30pm on a chilly day. I would have kept my pants on even whether I were inside… I’ll reserve my stripping for warm hotel rooms!

[Source] whilevegassleeps

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