So I never told you guys about how my trip went. I guess now is as good a time as ever. Actually, now is way worse than if I told you right after it happened, and within a month of anyone paying any attention, but I'll do it anyway, just for posterity.
I remember getting out of the plane and immediately feeling really weird. The airport in Vegas is like an airport-themed Casino. There were people at a bar with tubes stuck up their noses and I thought "Wow, maybe there's an emphezema convention in town or something", but then upon closer inspection it was an oxygen bar where people inhale different flavored oxygen. It's like a Spaceballs gag made real. Already I was thinking "This is even weirder than Weirdowood!"
I met my buddies at the sports bar at Bally's. It was like 5 in the afternoon by then, so it was time to start taking shots of tequila. All these guys are people I went to high school with in Parsippany, NJ. They're all "straights" or "squares" or what have you, but we're all pushing at the door of 30 now, so people have at least mellowed out (and bulked up, I guess...). I used to always get in fights with these guys because they would make fun of me for writing ideas down at bars, or having a unique point of view, stuff like that, but now we're all old and don't care what each other think. Anyway, I got drunk in short order so I don't really remember where we had dinner, except that it involved a cab ride and walking through a gigantic casino. It was a really nice Italian restaurant and, rare amongst anything in Vegas, you couldn't smoke in the restaurant! Dinner was 80 bucks each, so there went like half my gambling money, but I don't even really like gambling or know how to do it, so it didn't really matter. I remember having some boozey argument with my friend's little sister's fiancee about Red Hot Chili Peppers that went on for like 40 minutes. My argument was basically this: They are terrible and their last 10 years of singles have been rehashes or recombinations of "Under The Bridge" "Give It Away" and "Soul To Squeeze". His argument was "I like their new stuff". Somehow I think he won! I blame it on tequila.
Then we went to New York New York. It was Friday night so the place was packed. Half of our party sat down to play blackjack, but there wasn't enough room at the table for all of us, so the rest of us just drifted around the casino, playing video poker, slot machines, etc. I eventually decided to check out this cover band that was playing above a bar. They were basically doing classic rock standards. Magic Carpet Ride, a Who medley, AC/DC,--you know, the standards. They even broke out a "hot woman" to do "White Rabbit". People were very fucking excited. I realized that the crowd in this bar was made up mostly of people who probably never see a band in a venue smaller than The Staples Center or whatever, and are not used to the live band being within a half mile of them. When they played "TNT" some dude was singing along and doing that "I'm pointing at you 'cause you rock!" thing to the singer, and the singer pointed back, which made this dude very excited! So excited he actually turned around and told his date about it. This same guy came up to me a little later and yelled "Vegas Baby!" and gave me a high five. As much of an ass as he was, there's a place in my heart for that guy.
Okay, now comes the Adult Section of the trip... we of course had to go to a strip club, as it was a bachelor party. I can't remember the name of this place anymore, but it was definitely not "Treasures" or "The Treasure Chest" or whatever which is where some of the dudes wanted to go. Whatever the place was called, it wasn't so good. We got there very late (1 am I think) and the modus operandi of this place was that there wasn't a whole lot of actual stripping taking place. Most of the time there was no one onstage, but if you looked around the room, there were like 76 people getting lap dances. And apparently this was a place where you can touch the women, to a certain degree. To which I say, look, I'm here to indulge in voyeurism, not groping! Any strip club worth its salt will have your face beaten in for touching a girl. Not this place... Anyway, if you want to not get bored to Hell at this place, you apparently needed to invest 25 bucks in a lap dance, which is something I always said I wouldn't do, but what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, unless you post it all on the internet later like an idiot... but another aspect of the modus operandi is that if you get a 25 dollar lap dance all the woman does half the time is promote the $100 V.I.P. room lap dance which lasts 3 songs instead of one song. Wait, whuuuuuut? That's ridiculous. Oh, until I have two more beers, and then it's a fine idea. Apparently if you get the 100 dollar lap dance, the stripper then asks if you want another 100 dollar lap dance and says "It'll be worth it". Which is categorically untrue. Then they ask for a tip in addition to the 100 bucks.
We took the strip club's shuttle van back to the hotel. It had a big video screen in it. The driver was like "You guys wanna watch a porno?"
Unanimous: "NO."
When we pulled up to the hotel four or five African American babes in cocktail dresses were arguing with hotel security.
Driver: "Those are hookers getting kicked out of the hotel. If you guys are interested."
Us: "Uh, okay. Thanks."
One member of our party seemed to actually take this seriously into consideration, reasoning thusly: "I never banged a black chick."
My argument was this: "Technically, I'm sure you could sleep with a black woman if you really wanted to, found the right one, etc. If this is something you want, you can achieve it for free, and in a safe and reasonable manner, but right now, you have a girlfriend and I always advise against sleeping with prostitutes, regardless of their race, creed, or color." Or something like that. He heard me but he didn't really hear me. But luckily he didn't sleep with any prostitutes.
It was like 4 or 5am by now and because we wandered over to Paris, an there was a fake morning-light dome above us, it seemed like a good idea to get some more beers and continue to be awake, despite our bodies wanting to collapse. Eventually it became 7am and I tried to eat breakfast with the dudes and nearly passed out in my French Toast. I went to sleep finally. The groom-to-be stayed up until 1pm the next day, then slept until around 7pm and was a miserable basket case the rest of the night. In fact, the entire second day was a hungover haze of boredom and sleeze. except for the 2 hours I spent at the Bally's pool, which was like literally being in a Bud Lite commercial. Someone apparently called me Borat (I'm assuming because of the dark chest hair and paleness?) but I didn't hear them. My friend did and made quasi-friends with them. I didn't know what was going on while he was chatting with them, then he said "You should have come over! This girl was trying to talk to you. She called you 'Borat'!" To which I did a Scharpling-patented "What? How dare you!" And my friend was like "Oh, they didn't mean it to be mean." I was confused as to how else they would mean it. Borat is not a sex symbol.
Oh, we also went to The Hard Rock which blows and is supposed to be "hip" and it is my conviction that "hip" places in Vegas are the scariest and lamest because people trying to be hip in Vegas are missing the whole point of Vegas if you ask me. Someone tried to get in a fight with us for no reason whatsoever on our approach to the hotel, and I saw someone try to pick up a group of women by yelling "Hey! Hey YOU!" at them, and it almost worked! At some point, a cab driver we had told us how he saw Carrot Top in the parking lot of The Luxor and he said "That guy is FUCKED UP. He's got a fucked up face!" Unfortunately, I never went inside the Luxor, but to me it was the coolest-looking place there. Someday... I did go to Madagascar or whatever the place next door to it is called. It's got some South American theme or something. There were a lot of totally blinged-out West Coast guido types walking around and it was funny to see them stride by all these retired ladies where their slot-machine cards like they were the shit.
Biggest Disappointment: No more coins coming out of slot machines. Just tickets and a digital coin sound. Lame!
Fashion: I got really, really burnt out on cleavage and women generally looking like sluts. 4 out of 5 women in the city felt the need to look their personal trampiest. It was too much for me. And I live in L.A. By the end of the trip I was like "Man, I wanna see some chicks in turtlenecks. Where are the Amish ladies at??"
There was also a tonnage of dudes wearing button-down vertical striped shirts with no undershirts--and khakis. It's the VegasBaby! uniform.
Okay, I think I said everything I can say. I didn't see many of the sites, but maybe next time. It was a bazillion degrees out. There was too much cigarette smoke, I remember that. Oh yeah, and I ate at Ellis Island, which is sleazy but fun. I wanted to sing karaoke there, but my compatriots weren't into it.
I had a lot of fun and i'm glad no one got hurt or got a disease or got beaten by a bouncer or anything. I'm also glad that no one sleazed out and got strippers to come to the Hotel Room and do ungodly things to each other. Hours before my flight out, I had to call my bank because they froze my account. It's good to know that if you take 140 bucks out of your checking account from a strip-club ATM in Las Vegas, your bank gets suspicious. But I had to assure them, "That was me allright!" I got burnt out on the city in only 48 hours, but I want to go back again for some reason. And the only gambling I did was video poker!
