What Happens in Vegas May Stay in Vegas…but Phoenix Ain’t no Vegas!

That is the title of the speech that I will be competing with this evening at my Toastmaster's humorous speech competition. The contest is at my club, and the winner goes on to compete at the area ( 7 clubs compete), and the the winner there goes on to compete at the division (5 areas) and the winner there goes on to compete at the district (10 divisions). Our district covers the state of Florida and the Bahamas. The speech is about going to Phoenix last weekend to attend the Toastmasters annual conference and International Speech Contest which has two more levels of competition than the humorous speech contest. Do you think that we like to compete, maybe just a little?

So, for your reading pleasure, here is my speech...

Last weekend I had the opportunity to watch our very own Jim Bussey compete in my first ever Toast Master International Speech Contest.

Last weekend I had the opportunity to visit Phoenix, Arizona for the very first time.

Last weekend I had the opportunity to:
learn the latest in traveling fashion
make a new special friend on an airplane in a special way
experience the joy of dry heat
experience a blazing fire…in my mouth

Madame Contest Master, Fellow Toast Masters…what happens in Vegas may stay in Vegas, but what happens in Phoenix becomes fodder for a humorous speech contest! In order to be in Phoenix, one must get to Phoenix so on Friday morning there I was at the airport. While waiting to board my plane in MIA, I heard this sound. [squeak, squeak, squeak]. It got louder. [squeak, squeak, squeak] I turned around expecting to see Norman Bates, or maybe a mouse...on steroids. But instead I saw these two precious suitcases. They were neon pink and had "Cinderella" plastered across the front of them. Naturally, I looked for the little girl that would have these suitcases. Nothing. Then I looked for maybe a little bit older of a girl. Nothing. Then I looked for maybe a young lady reliving her youth? Nothing. Instead I say a man. A tall rugged looking man. No one else. Just the man and his luggage approaching the gate agent. There was no daughter, no niece, no female child at all in his vicinity – just him. In fact the agent even asked if he was traveling with someone else, and he just walked off - alone with his pretty, pretty luggage and a special spring in his step.

So now I’m on the plane for the first leg of the trip. I was flying standby with another member of my Toastmasters club and we were grateful to be on the plane. Of course, we were seated separately and I was seated in the middle seat of my row. Nothing funny ever happens in the middle seat. Nothing exciting happens in the middle seat, except for when Troy is sitting in the middle seat! I was very tired, the air was stuffy, there was no movie – so I fell asleep. The thing is, when I woke up I realized I had snuggled my head on the shoulder (pause) of a really big guy next to me. Complete with spittle. He gave me a special look and I just knew he wanted my telephone number. Did I give it to him? [flutter eyelashes] A gentleman never tells.

Once we arrived in Phoenix I quickly departed the aircraft. When we exited the terminal and got outside, I realized that my traveling companion was hot! I mean smokin' hot! Of course at 112 degrees Fahrenheit even Donald Trump is hot. Yes ladies and gentlemen, 112 degrees. Of course [air quotes] they (who are they? The locals, the weathermen?) tell you, “Well, it’s a dry heat – so it’s not so bad”. Yeah, guess what – [air quotes] they’re lying. It is bad. It is unbearably bad. Oh and the whole “it’s not as bad as Miami” because there’s no humidity. Uh, no…the humidity is why we wrinkle less than they do. That damned dry air makes you shrivel up like a raisin in a big cereal bowl full of sand. Give me my 86 degrees with 112% humidity any day – at least my tongue doesn't feel like sandpaper.

But that’s not all the heat I was going to experience. Oh no. Apparently our friends in Phoenix are not content with just external unbearable heat. It seems they enjoy a raging inferno on the inside as well.

On our way to the hotel we stopped at a restaurant and I ordered an American classic: Macaroni & Cheese. I tend to like mild food and how could I go wrong with that? Ha! It had macaroni, it had cheese. It had also had Jalapenos, Scotch Bonnets, and Habaneras. It was served with a bottle of hot sauce and a damage waiver. Folks in Phoenix are crazy! That bowl of fire should've been called "Macaroni and oh please this is hot"! Bottom line: If you aren't crying at the end of a meal in Phoenix, then your meal consisted of water.

I’m not saying to not go to Phoenix, it’s a beautiful city. You'll have a great time as long you carry pink luggage, find the perfect airplane neighbor, go naked and most importantly bring a mini fire extinguisher for dinner. And always remember: What happens in Vegas may stay in Vegas, but what happens in Phoenix could seriously hurt you!