The replies were swift and resounding:
This dancing queen is so there.
Finally, the day arrived and off we set, missing our fourth friend but psyched to be heading out to the Indian Gaming Resort for a good old fashioned disco slumber party.
Each of us had thrown something into our suitcases that we thought was either ridiculous, or just the perfect thing for an ABBA cover band at the Indian Casino. Missy took her something out of the bag, it was an off the shoulder polyester dress with an insanely dizzying pattern of colored zig zaggy lines. I could not believe my eyes, because my something was a shirt that tied into a jaunty knot atop my navel... in the same exact pattern. I shit you not. You'll see. Mary took the prize, though. She pulled out a supersnazzy glittering spectacle of wonders that came with matching headgear!
Two of us wore our somethings out that evening. Who were we to tempt the disco gods when so clearly presented with a miracle?
Mary agreed to doll up in her outfit just for a photo shoot (rock star) in the room, and we opted for the classic Charlie's Angels pose, because obviously.
I had noticed the photo booth app on Missy's iphone while thumbs upping Waterloo on pandora, and suggested we use it to create those fun, funky strips of a photo series. We see them all the time on facebook, we'd all posed for them before, it's easy! Yay! Being the only three rock stars in the room, we decided to use the mirror to check ourselves and catch the reflection on camera (phone).
So you just press the button then go switch...switch...switch when it's time to strike a new pose.
Hooo boy. Somehow we never got four shots! We could not do it. There was obviously something wrong with the app. It had nothing to do with the 3pm martinis or the smuggled lemonatas or operator error. Stupid app.
We moved on to the camera. We thought we should make a Mary sandwich between the matching disco prints, but I argued that I needed a fabulous pose since I was the only one not showing any leg candy. I wanted the camera to be my gun, up high over my head. We looked amazing in the mirror.
I'm leaving these photos unedited, because that's what makes them so completely awesome.
|got the basic idea, but lots of carpet and no camera gun in sight. I kept saying "sorry about my armpits"|
|Take two... physically forcing the giggles to stay at bay...|
|starting to lose the battle, shaking with laughter|
|rock stars. with lasers.|
Okay, so that wasn't working. We thought we'd try the self timer! It took me a while to figure it out, but then I did it!
|I looked like a maniac though, so we went to try again because I already knew how to do it|
|Oh, how I love these girls.|
while we looked like this
and helped stage a disco coup by commandeering an unoccupied area on the side of the stage for our dance floor. We badly frightened the boy/cop in charge, but our crowd grew and grew til the band had no choice but to let us sing in their mics, and the surly spectators had no choice but to chair dance in time.
In the morning, we laughed about how inept we'd been with the photo booth thing, and we thought we'd prove our
prowess by snapping one final series on our way back to the real world.