This last summer me and 7 of my college friends reunited in Las Vegas for gambling, drinking, and general sin. There were 4 guys and 4 girls, and we had an awesome suite that overlooked the strip. We were ballin', or at least they were ballin'. My night ended in emotional ruin. Not to mention a lot earlier than I'd have liked. Here's how it went:
8:00 PM: We leave our hotel and head to the Planet Hollywood Hotel and Casino.
8:20: We get to the Planet Hollywood and stumble upon a party gem: Fat Tuesdays. It's essentially a walk up, food court-like place that only serves frozen cocktails. Think of a Panda Express in the mall, except instead of a row of different Chinese foods, the back wall is lined with 10 Slurpee machines that dispense yard-long, boozy, frozen cocktails. This discovery makes us very happy and we step up to the counter.
8:25: After debating between a frozen margarita and a frozen peach belini, we ask the lady behind the counter which is the strongest drink. "That'd be either the 180 Octane or the Cat 151 Hurricane," she replies. "Ok, thank you, I will take a Cat 151 Hurricane please," I say. She asks me what size I would like--a solo cup, a pilsner glass, or a yard long tube. I tell her this is a ridiculous question and to please fill up the yard long tube. After the tube is filled she asks me if I would like a $1 shot added to my frozen Cat 151 Hurricane. "Yet again, you've asked me a ridiculous question. This is Vegas, do it please" I reply. All the boys get the same drink and we head to the casino.
8:35: We are stopped--the girls are hungry. No one has eaten for 8 hours. They suggest we eat before we get into the thick of the casino and drink our cocktails. Everyone walks into a fast-foodish restaurant and buys food. Except for me. I calculate that my sugary booze concoction probably has around 1,300 calories. That's enough to survive on. I sip my frozen yard of cocktail while they eat.
9:20: We are at a roulette table. I have finished my yard of cocktail. The casino lady running the table--even though she is hot and scantily clad--is not friendly at all. For this reason, I decide it will be fun to give her shit. "Excuse me mam, what happens if the ball lands in blue?" I ask. "There is no blue, sir" she replies angrily. "OK. Then please tell me the quickest way to make $1,000,000 by betting $5 at this table," I ask. "That's impossible, sir." I continue to play roulette and harass her because the cocktail waitress is bringing us free beer the entire time we play. Finally the casino lady goes on break. As she leaves she calls us ass holes. Guilty.
9:25: We take our beers and leave for The Flamingo Casino.
10:10: On the way to the Flamingo, I see that Jimmy Buffet's Margaritaville Bar and Restaurant is right next door. I must go in.
10:20: There is only one thing I love more than Jimmy Buffet, and that's drinking frozen margaritas in Margaritaville while a live band plays Jimmy Buffet. I order everyone frozen margaritas as I sing along to Volcano.
11:00: We leave Margaritaville and head into the casino.
11:10: We all go our separate way inside the casino--some go play blackjack, some play craps. I decide to play slot machines.
11:15: I get bored playing slots and spot an amazing woman across the casino. She's standing near some blackjack tables and I must talk to her.
11:20: I strut up and introduce myself, trying my best to exhibit the swagger of a younger Dean Martin. Her name is Flo. She is in Las Vegas celebrating her 39th birthday. She is a skinnier, hotter, less lesbian version of Wanda Sykes. We hit it off instantly.
11:25: She calls me sugar. I fall in love.
11:35: I can tell she likes me back and we continue to flirt. My friends show up to see where we should go next. I tell them to go away.
11:50: I am definitely in love. I decide to kiss her. She kisses me back. It is awesome.
11:55: Her friends show up. They ask her why she is kissing a 22 year old Caucasian boy in the middle of a Las Vegas casino. I explain to them that "it's because we're in love, duh."
11:56: They take Flo aside to talk some sense into her.
12:00: Flo returns and tells me that she must leave. I protest. She leaves.
12:02 AM: I am crushed. I am an emotionally broken man as I go back to the hotel room to sulk, watch the Notebook, then go to sleep.
11AM-11PM the next day: My friends bombard me with hours upon hours of shit-talking for the Flo incident. They think it is the funniest story they have ever heard. I am the brunt of their joke. I don't care, I am still in love.
0 comments:
Post a Comment