So we’ve had the most amazing trip. I’ve made some awesome memories and one of the nights in particular will stay with me always…early cocktails on the terrace of the Skyfall Lounge watching the sun set and seeing Las Vegas come alive, followed by dinner on the terrace of Olives restaurant at The Bellagio, whilst their fountains danced right in front of us…it was magical.
This was day two. Bearing in mind how flexible the weight watchers food plan is, up to that point I had felt completely in charge of me…keeping track of points when you’re constantly being offered things where you can only estimate point values – like the airline meals for example – is always going to be a challenge. But you’ve got to eat, on an 11 hour flight, right? And when you cross time zones and end up with an extra 8 hours in your day you kind of have to adjust stuff, mess around with your budget a bit.
I took a balanced approach…accepting a little pot of ice-cream with the movie on the flight felt okay because I’d refused a bread roll and chosen not to eat desserts and cake with the meal…not perfect, but given the asshole’s campaign to make me forget the diet for the duration of the trip I felt I was firmly in control of my choices. So I was doing ok.
But going back to our memorable night..getting a table on the terrace at the Skyfall Lounge is a privilege reserved for a very chosen few. My friends had made the reservation weeks in advance, emailing details about the fact we were celebrating a milestone birthday to help get it in the bag, and so there we were…pre-dinner cocktails with the best view in town. Amazing. And then the manager rocked up with a surprise birthday cake bomb which he proceeded to souse in limoncello, cover with two huge dollops of whipped cream and present to me with a flourish. What a lovely gesture…but man oh man, I’d quietly made skinny food choices all day, trying to juggle stuff so I could fit all the planned treats in, including cocktails and a special dinner.
So do I say ‘thanks but no thanks’, and throw the gesture back in his face, or do I eat it as he’s standing there expectantly, having just presented the fat lady who is clearly no stranger to cake with the best boozy creamy cake ever. Let’s look at the evidence…I’m a people pleaser. I do in fact love cake. And limoncello. And cream! And they’re all on a plate together in front of me, an unexpected gesture made by someone who wanted to do a nice thing, just for me. And the asshole in my mind is on it like a car bonnet…you ungrateful cow, of course you have to eat it…it would be totally rude not to, he’s trying to make your birthday treat extra special, you’ll look ridiculous if you make a fuss and say you don’t want it…
Dilemma. And bugger me, fast forward a few hours…we’d had a magical dinner, again, seats on the Olives restaurant terrace are really difficult to engineer since everybody wants them yet they aren’t bookable in advance. We got really lucky, and the evening was made more enjoyable still by our waiter Paul, who was utterly charming, and just wanted us to have an awesome time. And would you bloody believe it, after my carefully chosen meal he arrived at the table with profiteroles with a Happy Birthday piped in chocolate and birthday candles, just for me, thinking he was going to make my evening extra special.
Again with the dilemma…and again with the asshole who by this time of course was hopping up and down like Rumplestiltskin screaming don’t be rude just eat it and be thankful for the lovely gesture, don’t even think about saying no! Once again I’m faced with Hobson’s choice…put someone’s feelings before my own and risk the wheels coming off my food plan…or put myself first and hurt their feelings. Twice in one otherwise perfect night!
So…over to you guys. What do you reckon happened..? And what would you have done in my place..? Bear in mind, I’m not perfect and I’m navigating the road to skinny town the best way I can…I’ll share the outcome tomorrow but I’m curious as to how you all would have reacted ?
