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Las Vegas Story- Part Two
From out of the shadows, something in his hand, the lights of the casinos flashing strange lights across him, a man made his way toward me and my friends. We looked on, as he emerged from the dark. He was wearing a red sweatshirt, even in the desert heat, and a baseball cap. In his hand were what looked like playing cards. He clicked his tongue, smacked his lips, and hit the cards against each other, holding a few out to me and my companions. Not knowing what to do, I reached out and grabbed them. He nodded, and retreated to the shadows. I looked at the cards.
There were naked women on the cards. The young lady I was looking at currently was named Emma, and she wore nothing but a smile on her face. Underneath there were words, written in a florescent pink, that said “Feeling lonely tonight? $135 no tricks, call Emma” Everything began to register, as I looked through the rest of the cards, at Charlene, at Meeghan, at Ember, and Danielle. These were the escorts of Vegas. It felt like I had truly arrived in the city of sin. Still, I didn’t want honest casino folk to think I was at all serious about partaking in an escort so I stuffed these cards into my pocket as my friends and I made our way to the registration desk.
According to my experienced Vegas mentor, Ryan, who had facilitated the entire trip, if you bribe the people at the desk your odds of getting a room upgrade grow significantly. He coyly handed the girl behind the desk a 20 in addition to the money for the hotel (which by the way, is obscenely inexpensive. We stayed in Vegas for five days for a total of 30 dollars. No, I’m not kidding. (More on this later). She smiled, pocketed the money, and we were fully expecting something like the suite in the handover, complete with Tiger, or at the very least Zach Galifianakis. We made our way up to the 23rd floor of the Chrysler building, which was pretty awesome looking, and got out of the elevator. Down the hallway, we found out room. There was a big tray full of half eaten food in the hallway next to our room. Banana peels, the bones of what was probably a chicken but there is no way of knowing for sure, and many candy bar wrappers sat on the metal tray. We passed it without much thought, but unfortunately this would not be the last of the tray we would be seeing.
Bribes don’t always work. The room was average although it did have a very large bathtub and a pretty nice view of the strip. We were happy with it, put down our things, and changed our clothing into some more Vegas ready attire. For the first time in months, I was able to wear shorts, which felt awesome. After settling in and bouncing on the beds like any person who just arrived in Las Vegas in their pre-thirties would do, we realized we were incredibly hungry. As we looked down at the lights, we knew where we were going. It had to be. It was the only way. To Fatburger.
Walking into the glare of the strip, amid the crowds of drunk people, and the separate crowds of tourists mostly from east Asia who, coincidently, all seemed to be wearing fanny packs, we marched past the M & M super store, toward Fat Burger. On every corner, more men clicked, hit cards with naked women on them against each other, and held them out to us. It got old fast.
We arrived to a massive crowd, and the smell of delicious hamburger and fries filled out jetlagged and half starved nostrils. We went into the store, and my friend Ryan, being something of an amateur competitive eater, ordered the triple king burger. This was not a sandwich to be trifled with, at 24 ounces of seared and greased cow, and what seemed like enough condiments to fill the Hoover Dam. In classic Ryan fashion, he finished his hamburger. I struggled to get down a regular king burger, but managed. At this point we were all exhausted, jet lagged, sweaty from the desert sun and the massive ordeal of consuming something that invariably took months off of our lives, so we walked, slowly, past the clicking people, to the Hotel. We gambled for a bit in the casinos, and I never knew how fast one could burn through twenty dollars. A word of advice: Slots are for suckers, play table games. You win more, feel cooler, and get to meet people too. At that point I swore off gambling, until the next morning, anyway, where my luck would change significantly…
Past the tray filled with gross old food, into our room, and onto the beds in sweaty, overstuffed human balls of exhaustion. Who knew what tomorrow would bring, but dreams in the Nevada night invariably feature wine, women and song.
TEASERS FOR PART 3
-Up so much, then bye bye billions
-Buffet: Culinary doomsday
- Night Life and death on Las Vegas Boulevard
- Lessons, tips and tricks for Vegas success
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