In the City of Sin

Wildcat File Photo Arizona Summer Wildcat This is me along with Ron Jeremy at the premiere of "Cape Sin" in Las Vegas.

Now, I'm a Midwestern girl born and raised. Which is significant because I get this opportunity - an opportunity that a good girl from the Midwest should turn down. But hell, I bet none of you would pass by this opportunity either. Here's the deal: fly into Las Vegas for one night to see the movie premiere of Sin City's newest production, "Cape Sin." Now how could I turn that down?

It's being held at the Rio. My first time in that establishment. It's a lot like every other casino on the strip as far as clientele. Tourists looking awestruck at the lights, sounds and the hustle and bustle. Then there are the people with the hollowed out stares of people who have been down on their luck but are waiting for the tide to turn. Has-beens and will-bes. Ahhh, Vegas. As long as you have money, Vegas envelops you into her loving bosom only to thrust you away when you're broke. For me it was the perfect setting for a porno premiere.

I'll let you in on a surprising fact - they didn't show the movie. But what a show there was anyway! The theme was beachwear. You know, Cape Sin, beach? Me, the consummate slob, chose to wear a nice dress, after deciding against the ripped off corduroy shorts and Hawaiian shirt I was planning on. Walk into the hall only to be greeted by security and a bikini-clad Susan Powter look-alike. The party started at 8. Check my watch ... 8:05 - too early. I'm for the saying "fashionably late." But who cares? Grab a table, a beer or two and some sumptuous seafood and fresh fruit laid out for us. People trickle, then stream in. Kym Wilde, David Christopher (aka Pussyman for you porn connoisseurs out there), Ron Jeremy, Europe DiChan ... porn stars galore dressed as if - well, as if they were getting ready to shoot a porn. Business attire, you see.

Keep drinking. The party gets into full swing. Schmoozing everywhere, hyper girls grinding away on the dance floor and sitters like myself, content to watch the ebb and flow of the crowd around us. Out of the corner of my eye I see an older woman join our table. She's about 5 feet 6 inches, wearing very subdued clothing in all black, bleached blond hair (but whose isn't?) and diminutive. Except her chest, which I'll get back to in just a minute. Her face is so familiar! Think, think, think! Oh yes, it's Busty Dusty. Ohmigod. Turns out she's nice and down to Earth and really funny. But back to her breasts. All I have to say is 90 HHH. If you don't know what that means, ask a friend. Yes, even I couldn't help but look at them. Questions were running rampant through my head. I'm sure you can imagine. But how to ask those questions without sounding like a pervert? Well, it didn't work. I blurt out: "I'm so sorry. I have to know - they're so big, how can you stand it? Don't they hurt?" Instantly the puritan side of my brain starts slapping me around. Gee, I'm SO slick. I'm ready for her to smack me then leave. But she doesn't hit me. In fact, we talked about them at length. Truth be told, I felt them. Hey! Curiosity killed the cat but satisfaction brought it back. Eight pounds. Each. On this tiny woman. We talk, she goes home.

Keep drinking. Meet Kym Wilde who does S&M videos. Really intelligent. Talked shop with a photographer and avoided the dance floor like the plague. I have somehow amassed business cards from people. The end of the party is near - almost 1:30 a.m. Some girls are giving the crowd an eyeful. Of what, I'll leave up to you to imagine. I don't want to bore those of you who are porn aficionados and offend those of you who aren't. But really, they were there to drum up support for themselves as well as kick back. It's the biz and it was business. The party ends. Security hurries up those who are grabbing dates to take home and those of us who are wandering around. I wander. Grab a beer for the walk to the taxi.

The funny thing is, while this evening was a new and bizarre thing for me, it's pretty tame in comparison to what these people do for their jobs. I don't think I could have sex constantly with people watching. Someone's got to do it I suppose. I'm just glad I can watch from the outside. Vegas and porn. A match made in heaven.

Tanith L. Balaban is Photo Editor of the Arizona Summer Wildcat. After reading this column, her editor cannot think of a better reason to go to Vegas