Vegas Recap Part 2

After seeing a minor celebrity at our own crappy hotel, we decided to venture to the strip the following day for more star gazing and drinking. I think we did better at the drinking, but I’m pretty sure we saw Dr. J. I wonder if he has a blog.

En route to the strip we made our first mistake…not shelling out six bucks for a cab, but instead taking advantage of the “free” shuttle from the fabulous Gold Coast Casino and Bowling Alley to the equally classy (but on Strip) Barbary Coast. Free is not a fair price when the shuttle ride requires a 15 minute wait in the 110 degree Vegas heat. Polyester pants might look good, but they create a ridiculous amount of butt sweat.

Upon arriving at the Barbary, we made our second mistake. Instead of relaxing indoors and letting the seats of our pants dry, we inexplicably walked to the Bellagio. We followed that up with a walk to Caesar’s and closed with a walk back to the Barb. That’s more exercise than we normally get in a month.

Adding to our pain, Craig forgot to put the talcum powder in his fanny pack (that’s how I know he’s gay). In order to soak up some of the sweat and relieve some of the chaffing, we should have immediately returned to the room. It would have saved our asses…literally and figuratively. But, we’re fat and lazy, so we sat down at the nearest Pai Gow Poker table.

Pai Gow is supposed to be the game that you don’t lose too much money at, but are able to just relax and enjoy the free cocktails. And lo and behold, no sooner did we sit down than we heard that magical word, “COCKTAILS?” “Gin and tonic,” said Craig. “Jack and coke,” I said…and we were on our way. We sat in the same seats for over 8 hours. How could we have known that the free drinks would end up costing 6 bucks each? We probably shouldn’t have had 60 of them, but, damnit, we got our first ever comp…one and a half prime rib dinners each. Our star power was finally paying off for us.

During the Pai Gow session, we made friends with all who dared sit with us and the most talented Pai Gow dealers on the planet. One old lady complemented Craig on his “nice hand”…Craig replied while turning his hand up and down, “Aww..thanks. That’s what my mother says”. There were some guys from Bozeman, Montana. Craig thought he’d make pals by switching from gin and tonic to “The Bozeman”, which was Jaegermeister and something weird. Later he switched to beer. I guess Craig never heard the old saying, “Beer after Bozeman and your stomach will hurt real bad”.

We went through three cocktail waitresses and three or four pit bosses. We told each new pit boss the same story, “Our friends Bruce and Steve are coming in town later and we’d like to surprise them by planting a smelly, midget transvestite hooker/stripper in their room. Do you know a guy?” Surprisingly, not one of them could help us out.

There is very little of our conversations that I can remember, but if it weren’t for the ban on video cameras inside of casinos, the Two Hit Wonder Show would have already been sold to David Hasselhof’s production company. Everyone enjoyed the show, especially the house and the waitresses. One day we hope to not have to pay people to be entertained by us.

Eventually, Steve and Bruce called to say they had made it into town. We told them to come pick us up. But, they chose “In and Out” burger over friendship, so Craig and I went to our free prime rib dinner instead. It was not good, but my taste buds didn’t know it. Everything about the dinner was in slow motion, especially my reflexes. (The next day I found huge Au Jus stains on the general crotchal region of my short pants.) Motor skills were failing fast, but Craig was still able to sprint to the bathroom to try to throw up. That didn’t work, so he kept eating his prime rib until he did in fact vomit. It was that good.

We stumbled into the cab and skipped out on meeting up with Bruce and Steve so that we could take a nap…It was not even 11:00pm yet and we were done. I woke up at 2:30am and saved Craig’s life by walking down our half mile hallway and getting a bottled water for both of us. I tried to rally and called Steve and Bruce, who were having drinks at the Rio. Instead, my belly full of Jack Daniels told me it was time for another nap.

To Be Continued.