Part II
Part III
Part IV - Fin
Okay, why not? This will come in small installments because I get really busy with work and life, but I'm sick and can't hit up the gym, so why not?
Here's a sanitized (for reason I won't get into here) version of my trip. Please follow the cues as you read if your iPod is available:
Song: I'm The Ish (Kanye Remix)
Friday:
3 PM: Bosses are gone from work, finishing up a pitchbook. I'm waiting for my buddy to call me back since we're supposed to meet up and catch BART (the train) together to the airport.
We soon meet up, drink a couple beers, rendez-vous with another friend on BART itself, and then meet with another friend at the airport.
The thing worth knowing about me is that I'm a very awkward person. I don't mean socially-awkward; I'm actually very social and am not shy at all. I just have certain habits - I lose control of the volume of my voice when I'm excited, I make sudden jerky movements, and am 100% willing to embarrass myself for a good story.
We head through security and, even after putting all my metallic objects in the damn tray, I set off the alarm. I go back, and walk through again. Same thing. One more time of this and the officer tells me he's going to have to scan me personally. For some reason, he thinks he should put me in the clear box. My buddies can clearly see this as they're waiting for me (also, please note, the flight is about ten minutes from taking off).
I tried talking to the officer, but he just made me stay in there. Then, he went to scan me in the corner. He kept telling me to lift my arms, but I couldn't do it normally. I looked like I was surrendering to a routine airport check. I thought it was dumb, but my buddies decided to take pictures and upload it on facebook. The pitfalls of technology. Thank you, iPhone
8 PM: Finally land and it's Vegas time! There are four of us at this point and three more waiting for us at the Venetian. We grab a cab and head to the hotel. Somehow, we manage to grab the most sinfully boring cab driver alive. He spent about ten minutes, no joke, talking about the camera in his car without any intonations in his voice.
Sorry, did I say he's a cab driver? He's a cab driver / realtor / pimp. He then proceeds to tell stories about girls and what they'll do for us. I have not heard anyone so unexcited talking about sex... ever. Imagine the teacher from Ferris Buehler saying this: "You can get a handjob.... or a blowjob... or even sex from these girls" and you have our driver.
8:30 We escape from the cab driver and get dressed in our suite, which was booked for one, but we put seven people in there anyway, because we're cheap. So we start blasting the music...
Switch to The Good Life - Kanye West Ft T-Pain
We pound shots as we get ready for dinner at the Tao Restaurant (yes, guys, this actually works). Quick pro-trip: when you drink as much as I do, straight shots, especially from warm bottles start to induce gag reflexes. How do I make shots go down 100x more easily? Lime juice! Add a splash to any shot and... BAM!... you can take it down like you're a freshman in college again.
Run downstairs, wrecking havoc through the casino of the Venetian. On the way, one friend runs into a cocktail waitress, who then drops all her drinks on the ground. Visibly pissed off, she starts yelling at him, when another friend comes up to her and yells "It's YOUR fault!" and walks away.
Make it to Tao and attempt to fulfill our goal of eating here cheaply and making it into the club. This worked out even better than we imagined - we ate dinner there (interspersed by a trip back to the room to pound several more shots, of course), spent less than $35/person, and got into the nightclub free and without waiting in line (since we entered around 10 PM). The best part is we got our hands stamped, which we used to, what else, go back to the room and pre-party some more.
This time, we go all out and finish most of our bottle that we brought and jump to Tao, skipping line, even all the hot girls there. Clearly, we had to show this fact off to them, which was appreciated greatly (read: much flipping off occurred).
The club is still relatively empty at 11 PM, so we roam around. Apparently the rooftop is closed off for bottle service. Normally, I'd have no interest in going up there, but since it's so exclusive, I just follow a group that has bottle service and all seven of us end up there at the bar. It's a beautiful and clear night, so we grab some Bud Light Limes and toast to the night ahead.
Now the club is popping, so we head back to the main dancefloor...
Switch to La La La La - LMFAO
So the dj starts lighting fire on the dancefloor and we're all dancing for a bit (or at least the guy version of dancing, which involves yelling lyrics out and possibly fist-bumping guido style). Soon, we decide to get closer to the girls around us.
Now, there had been rumours going around that I'm a bad wingman. This is clearly unacceptable, since I am an awesome wingman (pretty simple logic - I don't hook up at clubs and I look like a decent guy, so I bring some legitimacy and won't fight for the hotter girl). So we find two Indian chicks - one that's cute, the other that probably downs samosas like I down shots (ie she's fat). So I dance with her so my friend can dance with the cute one. Later, these girls accuse us of stealing their wallets.
LMFAO comes on stage, rocks the world, we down some Jaegar Bombs, chat up girls, etc.
Finally, the night is coming to a close around 3 AM, so we head out. I get a little separated from the group, so I'm heading out. The bouncer stops me near the exit and says "Are you heading out?"
So he drags me outside to the back exit and says "I need to ask you a few questions", none of which were consequential. Then, he draws Xs on my wrists, as I get thrown out of a club that I was leaving anyway... WTF?
I apparently decide that this would be an awesome time to play blackjack, my favourite game. So we head to Palazzo, which has $25 minimum tables (way above what I wanted). Two hands later, I just lost $50 (about five Coronas). Guess it's time to call it a night?
[Editor Note: In retrospect, it doesn't sound that crazy. It's kinda tough to describe what happens inside the club. Good thing tomorrow has tons of out-of-club action!]
Part III
Part IV - Fin
Okay, why not? This will come in small installments because I get really busy with work and life, but I'm sick and can't hit up the gym, so why not?
Here's a sanitized (for reason I won't get into here) version of my trip. Please follow the cues as you read if your iPod is available:
Song: I'm The Ish (Kanye Remix)
Friday:
3 PM: Bosses are gone from work, finishing up a pitchbook. I'm waiting for my buddy to call me back since we're supposed to meet up and catch BART (the train) together to the airport.
We soon meet up, drink a couple beers, rendez-vous with another friend on BART itself, and then meet with another friend at the airport.
The thing worth knowing about me is that I'm a very awkward person. I don't mean socially-awkward; I'm actually very social and am not shy at all. I just have certain habits - I lose control of the volume of my voice when I'm excited, I make sudden jerky movements, and am 100% willing to embarrass myself for a good story.
We head through security and, even after putting all my metallic objects in the damn tray, I set off the alarm. I go back, and walk through again. Same thing. One more time of this and the officer tells me he's going to have to scan me personally. For some reason, he thinks he should put me in the clear box. My buddies can clearly see this as they're waiting for me (also, please note, the flight is about ten minutes from taking off).
I tried talking to the officer, but he just made me stay in there. Then, he went to scan me in the corner. He kept telling me to lift my arms, but I couldn't do it normally. I looked like I was surrendering to a routine airport check. I thought it was dumb, but my buddies decided to take pictures and upload it on facebook. The pitfalls of technology. Thank you, iPhone
8 PM: Finally land and it's Vegas time! There are four of us at this point and three more waiting for us at the Venetian. We grab a cab and head to the hotel. Somehow, we manage to grab the most sinfully boring cab driver alive. He spent about ten minutes, no joke, talking about the camera in his car without any intonations in his voice.
Sorry, did I say he's a cab driver? He's a cab driver / realtor / pimp. He then proceeds to tell stories about girls and what they'll do for us. I have not heard anyone so unexcited talking about sex... ever. Imagine the teacher from Ferris Buehler saying this: "You can get a handjob.... or a blowjob... or even sex from these girls" and you have our driver.
8:30 We escape from the cab driver and get dressed in our suite, which was booked for one, but we put seven people in there anyway, because we're cheap. So we start blasting the music...
Switch to The Good Life - Kanye West Ft T-Pain
We pound shots as we get ready for dinner at the Tao Restaurant (yes, guys, this actually works). Quick pro-trip: when you drink as much as I do, straight shots, especially from warm bottles start to induce gag reflexes. How do I make shots go down 100x more easily? Lime juice! Add a splash to any shot and... BAM!... you can take it down like you're a freshman in college again.
Run downstairs, wrecking havoc through the casino of the Venetian. On the way, one friend runs into a cocktail waitress, who then drops all her drinks on the ground. Visibly pissed off, she starts yelling at him, when another friend comes up to her and yells "It's YOUR fault!" and walks away.
Make it to Tao and attempt to fulfill our goal of eating here cheaply and making it into the club. This worked out even better than we imagined - we ate dinner there (interspersed by a trip back to the room to pound several more shots, of course), spent less than $35/person, and got into the nightclub free and without waiting in line (since we entered around 10 PM). The best part is we got our hands stamped, which we used to, what else, go back to the room and pre-party some more.
This time, we go all out and finish most of our bottle that we brought and jump to Tao, skipping line, even all the hot girls there. Clearly, we had to show this fact off to them, which was appreciated greatly (read: much flipping off occurred).
The club is still relatively empty at 11 PM, so we roam around. Apparently the rooftop is closed off for bottle service. Normally, I'd have no interest in going up there, but since it's so exclusive, I just follow a group that has bottle service and all seven of us end up there at the bar. It's a beautiful and clear night, so we grab some Bud Light Limes and toast to the night ahead.
Now the club is popping, so we head back to the main dancefloor...
Switch to La La La La - LMFAO
So the dj starts lighting fire on the dancefloor and we're all dancing for a bit (or at least the guy version of dancing, which involves yelling lyrics out and possibly fist-bumping guido style). Soon, we decide to get closer to the girls around us.
Now, there had been rumours going around that I'm a bad wingman. This is clearly unacceptable, since I am an awesome wingman (pretty simple logic - I don't hook up at clubs and I look like a decent guy, so I bring some legitimacy and won't fight for the hotter girl). So we find two Indian chicks - one that's cute, the other that probably downs samosas like I down shots (ie she's fat). So I dance with her so my friend can dance with the cute one. Later, these girls accuse us of stealing their wallets.
LMFAO comes on stage, rocks the world, we down some Jaegar Bombs, chat up girls, etc.
Finally, the night is coming to a close around 3 AM, so we head out. I get a little separated from the group, so I'm heading out. The bouncer stops me near the exit and says "Are you heading out?"
So he drags me outside to the back exit and says "I need to ask you a few questions", none of which were consequential. Then, he draws Xs on my wrists, as I get thrown out of a club that I was leaving anyway... WTF?
I apparently decide that this would be an awesome time to play blackjack, my favourite game. So we head to Palazzo, which has $25 minimum tables (way above what I wanted). Two hands later, I just lost $50 (about five Coronas). Guess it's time to call it a night?
[Editor Note: In retrospect, it doesn't sound that crazy. It's kinda tough to describe what happens inside the club. Good thing tomorrow has tons of out-of-club action!]
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