Well, the first order of the day will be to give a quick recent-life summary:
I started working for a good friend's family company, and have fallen in love with the job. Those to whom I've spoken recently know how much I love my work and my coworkers. It's given me a great deal of flexibility and travel opportunity, which is always appreciated. Even if you have to VPN in from your damn iPhone while sitting on the pier in San Francisco with friends, at least it's something enjoyable. Anyway.
Second order: Finishing the aforementioned aborted post. Everyone strap in, oh, and try not to let any of this end up in the Christmas letter, Amanda.
A few months ago, the crazy crew from my earlier "PT invades Vegas" post was back in town, dragging some new members in tow. I got the call late one evening that this was going down, and forced myself to drag my enfeebled ass out for the night. Or 5. Please note that my post is drawn largely off of random notes I threw in my phone so I'd remember certain points later. I will begin each section by copying the note, then will fill in the salient details. It will be a bit disjointed, so feel free to skip around.
Wednesday:
CIRCUS CIRCUS = WALMART
This needs very little explanation. The crew was staying at this gem of a Vegas getaway, and I'll admit I was a little in awe of its craptacularness. Yes, it's a word. Look it up. It wasn't the decor or any one particular odor per se, but more the clientèle. I'm not sure that's the appropriate word, actually... how about "herd"? With everyone in our party assembled, I think it's a fair bet that there were more cumulative IQ points within a 10 foot radius (we stand close) than could be located in the rest of the entire 10-story hotel.
In a word, it was awesome, though finding the garage is not an easy task. Especially when they closed the door you entered through and placed a bush in front of it. I spent close to an hour circling the casino trying to find the garage exit. It was like some messed up excerpt from the movie Labyrinth, only with less David Bowie and more hookers. Anyway, on to the meat of the post.
MARGARITAS = MAGIC
This note is from Wednesday night. I can only assume I'd had a rough day at work and only the quenching relief of pitchers of margaritas could extinguish the flames. There's nothing particularly amusing about this, other than the fact that I still had two days of work facing me and these guys were all on vacation.
DROVE HOME
I drove home.
Thursday:
BEERS, CHAMPAGNE, MOBILE BAR
I showed up in front of the Bellagio carrying a 7-11 bags full of 40s and a bottle of champagne. When I asked what I could pick up to bring everyone, the grocery list I ended up with had me checking out at a gas station with arms full of Olde English, Colt, and Clamato beer. Actually, the last one was my idea. A bad one. We drank the beer and champagne, watched the fountains, and had a great time. I learned that it is not best to open a well-shaken can of Clamato beer, because it will explode in what I can only describe as "clammy, tomato goodness" when opened.
SUPERMAN CAPE
Jon wore a superman cape. My friend Daniel questioned this. Daniel wore a pink argyle-patterned polo shirt. Jon questioned this.
Friday:
HOPE & FAITH
I stopped at the local grocery store to procure some beverages. I grabbed a small stuffed Peep at the checkout stand and perched it atop the Jack Daniels bottle. I asked the bagger girl what I should name it... she giggled and ran away. I asked the cashier for her name and she said, "Hope". I thanked her, and as I exited the store loudly announced that the drunken Peep that would follow us around all night was hereby christened Hope. I have been informed that her name may have in fact been Faith. All I know is that when we later tossed it into the fountains at Caesars, it seemed a lot less witty to say "Look--Faith floats!" Back to the story...
JACK & COKE FEST
Again we met in front of the Bellagio. Again I brought booze. Perhaps too much. I think I realized this when I almost got a hernia pulling the Coors "Cooler bag" out of my trunk. It housed
a handle of Jack Daniels, various and sundry Coca Cola products, a 10lb bag of ice, and several Starbucks cups with appropriately-sized lids. We do it in style. We also do it quickly, apparently, because the handle was gone in half an hour. It was 9:45, and we realized that we had tickets to the 10pm Cirque-esque show La Reve at the Wynn, located a mile away. We ditched the bag and ran down Las Vegas Boulevard (LVBLVD to the locals). Running down the strip, we came to the realization that no matter how fast you run, Jack will always catch one of you.DRUNKENLY POINTING AT PERFORMERS
Have you ever scored front-row tickets to an awesome show, then proceeded to reach out at the performers as they theatrically dance on the water's edge in front of you? Jimmy has. One chick (not Hope) actually busted up laughing when he did this and broke character. It wasn't too hard of a task, considering the character development for these things probably includes coaching phrases like, "Now if you were a goldfish, what would you think about Jung's theory of a multi-layered subconscious? Good-- Hold that pose!"
ROCK, PAPER, SCISSORS
If you're sober, you throw rock. If you're settling in, throw paper. If you're too drunk to operate more than two fingers, scissors is just about your only option. We all threw in our hands at the end of the show. Solid 'rocks' all around. Except Jimmy, who after two hours of Cirque Sobriety had managed not to metabolize an ounce of alcohol and proudly threw in his scissors.
(L to R: G, James[F], James[M], Jefe, Joe, Jon... though I think Jon and Joe occupy the same vertical area)
It's time to drink your way down LVBLVD, ladies and gentlemen. Tequila at the sketchy bar in TI? Done. Jaeger bombs in Mirage? Solid. Beer about ten feet away? We're talking paper territory in no time at this pace. I need to add that I'm pretty sure Joe took the lead in almost getting us kicked out for doing cartwheels in the casino. It was only once we went to Caesar's Palace that I rely a little more heavily on my notes and less so on my memory. Here goes.SHADOW BAR, MIKE, WILD TURKEY
We met up with my buddy Mike and shot Wild Turkey. Anyone who knows this group knows that this is not a stellar idea. Mike then treated us to his favorite shot- lemon drops. Not the conventional Lemon Drop, mind you. This is the needlessly complicated Lemon Drop. You get a shot of citron, some sugar, and lime. It's a snakebite, with with a skirt. In my case, make it a really ugly skirt because I use Splenda. We're nearing scissor territory.
BIT A ROTUND CHICK
I'm not going to go into detail on this one. Suffice it to say, Happy birthday, make sure you send your fiance a copy of that one. SCISSORS!
LIMO DRIVER'S NAME
I called up Todd the limo driver for Treasures and told him to come on down to pick us up. He's cool, that Todd. At least that's what I kept calling him. He picked us up in a limo bus resplendent with stripper pole. We had one girl with us, and the odds were not stacked in our favor for this journey.
It turns out his name is not Todd. But we tipped well.
MERLOT
We went to Treasures where we chatted up a nice girl named Merlot and found out she's only doing this to pay for college. Heart of gold. It should be noted at this point that were are not skeezy weirdos who frequent these places- much like Tom's gay marriage proposal, this moment was primarily for the story. Heck, we brought a girl! That being said, there were some comments that equated being of decent moral fiber in these places to a quadriplegic watching porn-- stunned silence and a lot of awkwardness. I'm pretty sure that making quadriplegic sex jokes takes me out of the category of 'decent moral fiber', but I think that bridge is not visible in many of our rear-view mirrors.
David, a good buddy that works there, talked his way into getting the control booth to display "WELCOME DARTMOUTH AND VANDERBILT" above the main stage. I think I have to write the alumni newsletter about this achievement.Oh, then I dropped a lit cigar. From the second story balcony. On a stripper. I ducked for cover, as I was sure we'd be engulfed in a spreading inferno of silicone and peroxide, but she just brushed it off like she was dusting indiscretions off her dead, dead soul.
JAMES DISAPPEARS
James disappeared. I had his suit jacket. Even though I had his cell phone in the suit pocket not an inch from my chest, I somehow believed that repeatedly calling it would magically reveal his location. It was not to be. We later found out that he walked (many miles, through nasty neighborhoods) back to Circus Circus. He can tell that story, though, as it is awesome.
BUSTED ASS, SLIDING CHAIR
I pushed out a chair so I could converse cordially with an acquaintance and failed to realize that it was on wheels. The chair shot about ten feet back, and I ended up planting my hind-quarters squarely on the floor of a strip club. I need to Purell my ass just thinking about it.
SUITE @ PARIS, KNOWING LOOK FROM ATTENDANT
Mike secured us a suite at the Paris hotel so we wouldn't have to drive home. When the guest services lady informed us there was only one room and it had a king bed, we shrugged it off and said okay. It was only when she gave me a weird quizzical look that I realized what she was getting at. I am not a boy toy, lady! Naturally to allay her fears and let her know it'd be a good 'ol hetero snore-fest, I gave her an exaggerated wink while Mike's back was turned. She laughed, but I think to this day Mike doesn't know why.
Saturday:
SNORE LIKE A WILDEBEEST
I was told that I snore like a wildebeest. I took this as a compliment, as usually my snores can be registered only by keenly-trained elephants.
WALK OF SHAME
My car was parked at the Bellagio, but my body was parked at the Paris. Around 9am, I roused myself and started the walk back to the car wearing Jimmy's suit jacket. I snagged a couple of mini Tabasco bottles from our food service cart on the way out. No idea why. Standing on the street corner outside of the Bellagio in full-on club getup at 9am on a Saturday is a pretty easy way to attract attention, and I sure garnered a bit of it. Drowsy, weaving, and barely connecting my feet to the pavement, I made it back.
MINI TABASCO INCIDENT
While I was trying to turn right onto LVBLVD, a straggling pedestrian stopped in the crosswalk to take a picture of the Eiffel Tower at the Paris. I honked politely. No response. I honked rudely. Again, no response. I figured the only way to attract the pedestrian's attention was by brute force, so I grabbed one of the mini Tabasco bottles from my pocket and hurled it in a "Hi, I'm trying to drive where you are walking. Please remove yourself" gesture. It struck gold. Man, she was pissed, but at least she moved.
FETAL POSITION
This is the only note I have for the daylight hours of Saturday.
TATTOOS
No, not me. Two members of our party got badass tattoos that glow only under black lights. Cool. We also attempted to bowl but the line was too long. That's it. Crazy Saturday night.
Sunday:
SUNDAY FUNDAY
We grabbed a sixer of Tecate and some Heineken and headed out to the Green Valley Ranch pool. The girl in our party had already left, so we were probably a sight to behold as we tried out Jon's kickass underwater camera... at a pool full of kids. Which leads us to....
JIMMY'S 'STACHE, GLASSES, HAIR
Slicked back hair, unshaved mustaches, and aviator glasses. At a pool full of kids. One intreped and obviously judgment-challenged child waved at us, and when we waved back. I don't think even the most sensitive high-speed camera on earth could have recorded the speed with which the mother swiped her daughter out of eye-shot.
TECATE
The following was said of our friend, the Tecate can: "Who doesn't love Mexican beer with Russian political symbolism? Drink up and lose your capitalism!"
IN-N-OUT
In one final farewell to the West Coast life, Jefe, Jimmy and I hit up In-n-Out burger. It's sad that this moment was probably the healthiest moment of my weekend, but that's what makes life worth living.
Again, I had a great weekend, and I can't believe it's taken me this long to chronicle it. I'll search for pics to accompany the stories, but I have a feeling that even I don't want to see them.
