I had no idea that Rehab could be so scandalous. Or so loud.
Of course, I’m talking about Rehab Sundays at The Hard Rock Hotel. I had my first Rehab Sunday experience this year in late April. Never have I seen so many non-swimsuits-posing-as-bathing-suits. Here’s a tip: if it looks like string wrapped around your body, it is. This does not make it a bathing suit, even if it is water proof string.
One of the girls with me (who was wearing an actual bathing suit) wanted more of the girls to trip. Her logic: we were at a pool, on uneven stone. If someone decided to wear four inch stiletto heels, then that someone deserved to trip. And she was prepared to laugh.
Most of the people there were trying to get caught on tape for the DMX video that was being filmed there that day. Hey, more power to you. We all need our fifteen minutes of fame. Or fifteen seconds, whatever. And if you need to get there by wearing neon yellow dental floss, so be it. Rock on with your bad self.
The day became funnier (and more tolerable) the more water-bottle-sized drinks that we consumed. The pool seemed less disgusting (it wasn’t), the dancing more fun and the fact that women were giving pool side lap dances, well, that was always tragically funny.
So I made it through my first Rehab. It’s an annual event for my friends. It will take me at least a year to recover.
Maybe longer.
