I'm not entirely sure how to go about describing the events of the last four days. I've become a pretty big fan of lists, so I'll stick to that. Below is what Craig, Timmy, Jason and I learned during our trip to Vegas, broken down by day. It was both fun and educational.
Disclaimer: This gets graphic and is long. It is not suitable for young audiences or parents. I know you'll read this anyway, mom. I'm sorry and I love you. I'll be home for Easter.
Day One
1. Delta will screw you if you give them the chance.
Let me explain this one. Our flight was supposed to depart from St. Louis at 6:30 PM, arrive in Salt Lake City by 7:45, we would catch our connection at 8:45 PM and be in Vegas by 11:30 PM. Apparently, there was some sort of leak from one of the engines, no big deal. Just call some mechanics to take a look at it. Apparently, Delta didn't have any mechanics at Lambert and had to fly them in from Atlanta. Luckily, there was another flight to SLC at 9:15 PM, thirty minutes after our connection departed. Delta put us up in the Baymont Inn in SLC. The shuttle drops us off and after waiting in line for thirty minutes, the desk attendant tells us the hotel is overbooked. Awesome. We get carted to a Quality Inn and finally get to bed at 2:30 AM. Our flight out is at 7:45 AM. Little did we know, lack of sleep would become a recurring theme on this trip. Ended up seeing one of my favorite bartenders at the StL airport, so not all was lost! (Congrats again, Ashley)
Day Two
1. The only thing you will do at "Circus Circus" is leave.
Not that you really ever see your hotel room, but if you go to Vegas don't stay at Circus Circus. I'll elaborate on that later.
2. $180 is barely getting your feet wet on the strip.
First night out. We head to Ghostbar in The Palms. IT's on the 55th floor and the balcony has a glass floor. It's really cool. This is also where we learn that drinks are $11 a pop in Vegas. After Ghostbar, we head to Rain. Rain is also in The Palms. Before we could even enter we had to sign a waiver. Now, I'd like to consider myself some what of a veteran drinker/partier, but I have NEVER been required to sign a waiver to get into anywhere. So, we signed away. When we entered, we found out why we had to sign a waiver. You can rent roller skates. That is 100% true. There are drunk people skating on a roller rink in the middle of a three story club AND there were pyrotechnics. We got home at 5:30 AM (after going to a place where clothing is optional), and I spent $180. J had to be dropped off early because he was absolutely shmammered. SHMAMMERED. We also grabbed McDonalds with some of the Lowe's NASCAR team. One of them tried to buy weed off of Timmy. Clearly, we don't do that shit. Oh, and a homeless guy asked me to watch his blanket and coffee. Shortly after, he asked me if I wanted to fight. Oh, homeless guys. This would later become the tamest night of the trip.
Day Three
1. A two hour open bar will lead to a man down.
Timmy gave us the bright idea of paying $400 for a two hour open bar and a limo ride to Treasures. Treasures is, in fact, a strip club. We gambled earlier in the day and started pregaming around 7:00 pm. The limo would pick us up at 9:45 pm. We drank, and drank, and drank (see pictures). The limo turned out to be a bad ass party bus, and picked us up at 9:45. We arrived at Treasures shortly after 10:00 pm. The next two hours can only be described as a two hour binge drinking, lap dancing, dollar tossing shit show. The manager was tossing girls at our table like free iPods. Really, they were incidental to the drinking we wanted to accomplish. Within 45 minutes of arriving, the server let us know that our tab was $396. We were drinking Jameson doubles and ripping shots like I've never seen. At one point, Timmy slapped a stripper's ass so hard, he left a hand print and gave her a limp. I convinced two girls that I was a real estate developer in St. Louis with simple tastes. The girls, believing that I had money, were trying to take me for every dollar I had on me. They were wildly successful. We began drinking double vodka Redbulls. The girls began taking shots. That's when it happened. We lost Timmy. The server closed out our tab. Total damage: $553 in two hours. We went outside to hail a cab, I called Timmy. Here's how the conversation went:
"Timmy where the hell are you?!"
"I fudged up, man."
"Oh man, where'd you go?!"
At this exact moment, Timmy comes blasting through the hedges on the side of Treasures, next to the Valet line. He looked like a grizzled war veteran with a 1000 yard stare in his eyes. He hung up his phone. I hung up mine. I wanted to hug him.
"I fudged up guys. I ran downstairs, to the side of the building and puked three times. There are SO MANY cars out here."
"Saddle up, Timmy. We're going to the Luxor."
We ended up taking Timmy to the Luxor where he immediately got a cab back to our hotel. There is a hysterical video of the cab ride forthcoming. Craig, J, and I went to Cathouse in the Luxor and then to Sapphire. Things got weirder. This would be the second tamest night of the trip.
2. If you haggle with a driver, you can get almost anything you want.
Drivers in Vegas will get paid if they drop you off at certain clubs. $30 to $50 a person. They have the powerful ability to comp cover. Cover will run you at least $20 in Vegas. I argued, cussed, and screamed at a driver to comp our cover into Sapphire. There's a four minute video of the "debate." I hope it never makes it to facebook. I look and sound like a douche bag. However, it did save everyone in the Escalade $30. He ended up comping our cover. J bought drinks inside, three Bud Lights were $36. We laughed, then we got lap dances.
3. Escorts will mark you if you're hammered.
Remember when I said I would come back to Circus Circus? This is me coming back. After Sapphire, we went back to the hotel. Apparently, I was being a Tsunami (speaking of, I was in Vegas and there were real tsunamis across the globe. Coincidence?), so J wrapped me in caution tape. We stumbled through the casino to get to our room. As we walked through the penny slots (yes, penny slots, imagine the talent that you get through there), a girl started talking to us. She continued to talk to us up the escalator, up thirty floors on the elevator and into our room. Keep in mind, Timmy is passed out on the bed. We come blasting in the room in true chaos. She lays on one of the beds. I keep asking her who she is. She won't answer. We're being very loud and drunk. I'm still wrapped in caution tape. Timmy shoots up from his drunken slumber, and without missing a beat screams at the girl:
"Let me see your butthole!!"
I leave the room, trying to contain my laughter. J is convinced she's just a nice girl that wanted to meet some guys. Silly J. I come back into the room. I'm angry at this point.
"Look, I don't know who the fuck you are, but get the fuck out of this room! There's the door!"
Craig was in our room using the restroom and getting ready for bed. He drunkenly stumbles into the room, which I'm trying to kick an escort out of, without a shirt on and his pants are unzipped. That didn't help my case, but she left anyway. Before she left, she admitted to being $300 for the night. Nice girl.
Escorts prowl the penny slots of Circus Circus and look for drunk dudes wrapped in caution tape. Say that without laughing.
Day Four
1. The strip is really cool when you're sober.
We wandered the strip on day four. Got a lot of pictures. If yo go to Vegas, you need to do it at least once. Very cool.
2. The Mexicans on the strip will fill your hands with call girl cards and porn in seventeen seconds.
Don't take anything from them! They'll slap the cards, they'll shove them in your face, they'll ask you if the girls are beautiful. DO NOT TAKE IT. If you do, it's like blood in the water for sharks. The other Mexicans will come out of NO WHERE and give you more cards. Literally no where. We saw one morph out of a light post, one came out of a newspaper rack, and I'm pretty sure one repelled down a building. You will be attacked in a frenzy of smut and Spaniards.
3. Renting a limo will lead to a night of terrible decisions.
"Let's rent a limo!"
Then everything went wrong. We brought a fifth of Johnny Walker, and two liters of soda into the limo. We cruised the strip for 45 minutes. Timmy got flipped off by a black guy for yelling "shawty" at his girl. Awesome moment. We had the limo driver drop us off at the Bellagio, we wanted to go to Pure. Turns out, we aren't cool, VIPs, or have enough money to pay the bouncers to let us in, so we went to The Rockhouse in New York New York. I really liked this place, probably because it reminded me a lot of Sidebar, but with servers and bartenders swinging on tires and dancing in cages. If I could just get Sidebar to do that.
J and I met two girls there from Washington, I don't recall their names. One was Lauren. We'll call the other one Cynthia. I could be wrong on Lauren, too. We brought them into the limo with us, and went to Ghostbar. Ridiculous amounts of drinking ensued. As it turned out, it was Cynthia's 21st birthday. Even more ridiculous amounts of drinking ensued. Shots followed. We went to leave the Palms and call our driver. Instead, we found him at the bar with another driver. We all went to Rick's Cabaret, the very place we ended our first night with. So, now it is: me, Craig, J, Timmy, Lauren, Cynthia, our limo driver, Chris; and the other limo driver, Paul. We proceed to drink more at Rick's Caberet. Cynthia passed out in her chair. Chris and Paul get WASTED. I saw a beautiful girl, who had a British accent. We talked about music, tattoos, and Robert Frost. This was a stripper, but apparently an educated stripper. It actually was a good conversation. Before we left, she handed me a bar napkin. She had written a poem on it. As soon as I find it (I'm unpacking as I write this), I'll post it on here. She even used big words. As soon as we open the doors to leave Rick's, the sun blinds us and we begin hissing. It was 7:30 am. We had no idea. Our original limo driver, Chris, loads up in the back of the Escalade and passes out. Paul drives us back to our hotel. We sleep for 4 hours. We have a plane to catch at 4:30 pm.
Day Five, The Final Day
1. Vomiting hurts.
I can only tell you day five from my point of view, and here it is: toilet. I woke up with a violent urge to vomit, so I did. For approximately seven hours. I couldn't even keep down water. I would drink water to stay hydrated, but I would throw it up fifteen minutes later. I had two bites of an apple and a cup of Coke. That stayed down. We got on our shuttle to the airport. I look like the walking dead, I feel like I would rather be dead.
2. Projectile vomiting in the Vegas airport makes for a great story later.
Of course, since I'm comically hungover, the driver packs the shuttle full of people. It's hot, stuffy, and I am in imminent danger of technicolor yawning all over everyone inside the van. We arrive at the airport. The shuttle lanes at the Vegas airport are more like six lane highways. You have shuttles, limos, busses, cabs, and commuters zipping by at 60 mph. The shuttle inexplicably stops and bails us out on the lane that is second farthest from the airport and takes off. So, there were are. Me, Craig, and J, standing in the middle of a highway with cars zipping by at 60 mph. I am so hungover that I can barely stand. Then, my ears start ringing and my vision goes. I start to lose my balance. We're still standing in the middle of the highway. I look at Craig and say, "dude, I'm gonna pass out. I'm passing out. As I say this, I'm passing out." J says, "where are we? In the middle of a highway? Let's get out of here." For me, at this point, it's all heart. I summon every ounce of strength in my tattered and beaten body and begin running across four lanes of highway. This is the most hungover I have ever been.
We get in the airport. I'm sure I rouse everyone's suspicions. I look like hell, like I'm about to die. I check my bags, I get my boarding passes, I hobble through security. As we walk down the concourse to our gate, it hits me. The sudden terrifying urge that you are going to violently puke IMMEDIATELY. I start preparing for the onslaught right away. First, I slow down and let Craig and J get ahead of me. Second, I examine my surroundings. Only adults, no children. That's good. No bathrooms to me left, no bathrooms to my right. No trashcans. Not good. Of course when this strikes me I would be in the only airport in America that doesn't have trashcans or bathrooms every thirty feet. Wait, what's that? A janitor pushing a janitor cart?! YES. He pushes it off to the side and slowly walks away. I begin running toward the cart, wheeling my bag behind me. I can feel it surging up my throat. I'm five feet away. It's at the top of my throat. Three feet. BLAAARRRRGGGHHHHH!!!! Coke and two bites of an apple come rocketing out of my face like a ballistic missile coming back into the atmosphere. I was about three feet away when it started. I had to arch it just right, but I got it all in the trashcan of the janitor's cart. The best part: no one saw. It was a stealth attack. I am the ninja of the nasty.
3. Vegas will make you remember exactly where you come from.
You'll meet all kinds of people in Vegas. You won't meet anyone that lives in Vegas, but people from just about any where else in the world you will. You'll meet rich people, poor people, cool people, uncool people, etc., etc. But what it made me realize the most is that I'm proud of where I come from and I have the best friends in the world. Everyone has an angle in Vegas, every person you meet and every place you go to is trying to make money off of you directly or get money off of you indirectly. If you're not paying attention, you'll get taken advantage of by a cabby or an escort while your drunk or girls that write you poems in a club.
Apparently, when people go to Vegas, they check their manners at the door of the gate they came in on at the airport. This may sound cheesy, but no one held doors, no one said "please" or "thank you." I'm big on little things like that. Everyone was in a hurry, cutting in line, getting every little advantage they could over other people. Maybe it's because I'm from the humble city of St. Louis in the Midwest, maybe we're too nice out here. I don't think such a thing exists. Whatever it is, I wouldn't change a damn thing about it.
I'm tagging everyone that I saw or texted or that texted me to make sure I was alive daily.
Everyone should go to Vegas at least once. It's insane. Don't stay as long as we did. The last thing we learned is that we stayed one day and one night too long. Oh, and as I unpacked - I discovered $21 in one of my pockets and everything in my luggage is wet. I have no idea why.
Only in Vegas
