A Nickel For A Kiss
Bruce and I went to Vegas last weekend. We gambled and won…a whole $69.75. We also saw some airplanes and Mama Mia. We also ate some food.
Okay, now that all the boring stuff is out of the way, I can now share the most amazing thing I have ever seen in my entire life EVER.
As I tripped my drunk ass self from Mandalay Bay to the Excalibur, I realized the my drunk ass self needed more gin. (Oh lordy how many nights have started with the phrase “needed more gin”, which leads me to the next post I am planning in my brain.) I sniffed out the closest gin serving counter, which in Vegas is much harder than one would think what with all the nasty ass smelling gamblers. Note to gamblers: take your stanky ass selves back to your room and take a shower once every three days. Also, stop smoking like 50 year-old truckers.
Wait, where was I. Oh yeah, sucking back another G&T. The bar I found was a lounge, in the truest sense of the word, and included an actual Vegas Lounge Act. I only caught the very end of the set but I made myself comfortable and waited for the next round of something excellent. I was rewarded in the following ways, including but not limited to:
A white guy at the bar with a really pretty girl
The white guy at the bar doing a combination of the white guy shuffle and a crotch pump at the pretty girl he was with (yes, AT, not WITH)
The white guy at the bar dragging the pretty girl onto the dance floor and being awesomely drunk and dancing
The song Sweet Home Alabama
A man in a wife beater doing the Achy Breaky Heart to Sweet Home Alabama
A man, that was dressed like a woman singing the song U + UR Hand
Drunk guy dancing clubesquey to the man dressed as a woman singing U + UR Hand
A man in a wife beater who previously danced the Achy Breaky Heart to Sweet Home Alabama smacking himself on both ass cheeks as he left the lounge
I wish I could tell you more, but I can’t remember what else happened. What I can remember was waking up in a hotel room that smelled like an ashtray, damn Vegas smokers, and feeling like I was going to hurl. I like to believe that sensation was simply a reaction to the smell of smoke.
Some more happened, but nothing else was nearly as entertaining as that. And that is the story of what I did last weekend. The End.