The wait is over. Now it can be told.
You're all probably wondering how my Vegas trip went. Did I go one up on tao_experience and actually seal the deal with a honey at the club? Did I do humanity a favor by permanently removing everyone wearing Ed Hardy apparel from the gene pool? Did I lose my shirt at the tables and have to earn my way back home by breakdancing to the Sugar Hill Gang's "Apache"? Read on and find out!
Thursday, 11/19
In which I meet blibbalb, possibly see a porn star, and get shot down by a probably-fake lesbian
My day began at approximately 6 AM EST. After doing some last-minute packing and posting on this forum, I hopped on the Metro on my way to Ronnie Raygun National Airport. While I'm waiting for my plane to board, I hit up a bar/restaurant in my terminal and get a Sam Adams. It is not yet 9 AM at this point. Hey, I'm going to Vegas, I might as well get in the spirit, right?
My flight to Vegas was uneventful. I passed the time mainly by reading a biography of Johnny Unitas that a friend of mine lent me. Once I land in Vegas, I pick up my bag and hop in a cab. I'm pretty sure the cabbie screwed me, since the ride to the Palms cost $27, not including tip. Oh, well. Once I arrive at the Palms, I check in, unload my crap, and decide to get a feel for the lay of the land. In the process, I drop by the bar near the race and sports book for a few drinks. Hey, they have Pilsner Urquell. Kick-ass. Better yet, it's only $5. Maybe all the reports about drinks being expensive in Vegas have been exaggerated. While I'm enjoying my beverage, a man comes up to me and asks me how much my drink is. I tell him that it's $5. Apparently, he had just won some drink tickets, and he offers to sell them to me for that amount. Two drinks for the price of one. I like the sound of that. I take him up on his offer, and once I see the tickets, I see that they only cover domestic beers. Crap.
At this point, I still have a ton of time to kill until the evening, so I decide to take a cab to The Freakin' Frog, which is universally regarded as the best beer bar in Vegas. Naturally, my cabbie has no idea where this place is. (For the record, it's at the corner of Maryland and University.) After she calls in for directions, she takes me there without much issue. The main attraction for me is Westvleteren 12, which is like the Holy Grail for beer geeks. It's brewed by monks, and you're only supposed to be able to buy it at the monastery. Once I get there, I inquire about Westy. The bartender informs me that there's only one bottle left, he'd have to call the owner for permission to sell it, and it'd cost upwards of a C-note. I like quality beer, but not that much, so I decide to pass. I'm having trouble deciding now, so he allows me to come back into the fridge and pick something out. While there, I see a bottle of Alesmith Speedway Stout. This is something I've been wanting to try for a long time, so I immediately jump at the opportunity. Unfortunately, I have to say that I was underwhelmed. I think it was largely a product of the fact that it was served too cold, though. I also have a Fat Tire during my time there.
While at The Freakin' Frog, I see a girl who is a dead ringer for the porn star Rucca Page-face, rack, and all. Throw in the fact that Rucca is from Vegas, and I'm quite certain that this is in fact her. Unfortunately, she was talking on her cell phone while she was there and left immediately afterward, so I didn't get a chance to test my theory. In any event, once I head out, I see that there's an In-n-Out Burger across the street. After hearing so much about it, I had to give it a try. And I give it an enthusiastic thumbs-up. I was skeptical, but the burgers and fries can't be beat, especially for the price. I came to scoff but remained to pray. But I'm slightly annoyed because my budget's already blown to shit at this point.
Once I get back to the Palms, I head over to the race and sports book to catch the end of the Dolphins-Panthers game. I use my first drink ticket to purchase a whiskey sour, which I nurse while I watch Ricky Williams run wild. After the game ends, I change into my clubbing attire and catch a cab to the Venetian. Tao isn't even close to open at this point, so I decide to kill some time at the V Bar. While there, I nurse a Sierra Nevada, which is also reasonably priced. Hey, this Vegas thing might not be so bad! Once I'm done with my drink, I wander confusedly for a while until I reach Tao at around 9:50. While in line, I text blibblab asking where he is. He responds that he's still at his hotel, as he thought Tao opened at 10:30. I get in around 10:!5 and tell him to text me once he gets in. While I'm waiting, I see a guy in Marine dress blues. I go up to him and thank him for his service. He's apparently macking on this one chick, so he's not all too pleased by my presence. Once I sense that I've overstayed my welcome, I bail. Honestly, though, I'm not really a big fan of wearing military uniforms to the club. Trust me, folks. There's nothing in Vegas that's worth getting discharged over.
blibblab gets in around 11, and after a bit of phone tag, we meet up near the statues by the dance floor. I officially declare blib to be a cool cat, and not only because he bought me a whiskey sour. We discussed many topics, including metal (both for), Ed Hardy (against), and Obama (we seemed to be split). I did find it interesting to discover that despite being from Philly, he hates the Flyers and is a Penguins fan. Sellout.
We eventually parted ways, and I was most unequivocally unequipped to fly solo. I paced frantically around the club like the tigers I would see the next day and made a few futile efforts to engage the opposite sex in coversation. The most notable effort involved a mixed-sex group. I'm kind of eyeing this one girl, so one of the guys (who has an accent I can't quite place) says "she's all yours" and tries to force us together. The girl responds by saying something. I can't quite make out what she said, but it was accompanied by clear "do not want" hand signals. The guy informs me that she said that she was a lesbian. That's probably bullshit, but I'm not in much of a position to protest. I decide to bail around 2 and head back to the Palms empty-handed but with an important lesson in mind: fortune favors the bold.
You're all probably wondering how my Vegas trip went. Did I go one up on tao_experience and actually seal the deal with a honey at the club? Did I do humanity a favor by permanently removing everyone wearing Ed Hardy apparel from the gene pool? Did I lose my shirt at the tables and have to earn my way back home by breakdancing to the Sugar Hill Gang's "Apache"? Read on and find out!
Thursday, 11/19
In which I meet blibbalb, possibly see a porn star, and get shot down by a probably-fake lesbian
My day began at approximately 6 AM EST. After doing some last-minute packing and posting on this forum, I hopped on the Metro on my way to Ronnie Raygun National Airport. While I'm waiting for my plane to board, I hit up a bar/restaurant in my terminal and get a Sam Adams. It is not yet 9 AM at this point. Hey, I'm going to Vegas, I might as well get in the spirit, right?
My flight to Vegas was uneventful. I passed the time mainly by reading a biography of Johnny Unitas that a friend of mine lent me. Once I land in Vegas, I pick up my bag and hop in a cab. I'm pretty sure the cabbie screwed me, since the ride to the Palms cost $27, not including tip. Oh, well. Once I arrive at the Palms, I check in, unload my crap, and decide to get a feel for the lay of the land. In the process, I drop by the bar near the race and sports book for a few drinks. Hey, they have Pilsner Urquell. Kick-ass. Better yet, it's only $5. Maybe all the reports about drinks being expensive in Vegas have been exaggerated. While I'm enjoying my beverage, a man comes up to me and asks me how much my drink is. I tell him that it's $5. Apparently, he had just won some drink tickets, and he offers to sell them to me for that amount. Two drinks for the price of one. I like the sound of that. I take him up on his offer, and once I see the tickets, I see that they only cover domestic beers. Crap.
At this point, I still have a ton of time to kill until the evening, so I decide to take a cab to The Freakin' Frog, which is universally regarded as the best beer bar in Vegas. Naturally, my cabbie has no idea where this place is. (For the record, it's at the corner of Maryland and University.) After she calls in for directions, she takes me there without much issue. The main attraction for me is Westvleteren 12, which is like the Holy Grail for beer geeks. It's brewed by monks, and you're only supposed to be able to buy it at the monastery. Once I get there, I inquire about Westy. The bartender informs me that there's only one bottle left, he'd have to call the owner for permission to sell it, and it'd cost upwards of a C-note. I like quality beer, but not that much, so I decide to pass. I'm having trouble deciding now, so he allows me to come back into the fridge and pick something out. While there, I see a bottle of Alesmith Speedway Stout. This is something I've been wanting to try for a long time, so I immediately jump at the opportunity. Unfortunately, I have to say that I was underwhelmed. I think it was largely a product of the fact that it was served too cold, though. I also have a Fat Tire during my time there.
While at The Freakin' Frog, I see a girl who is a dead ringer for the porn star Rucca Page-face, rack, and all. Throw in the fact that Rucca is from Vegas, and I'm quite certain that this is in fact her. Unfortunately, she was talking on her cell phone while she was there and left immediately afterward, so I didn't get a chance to test my theory. In any event, once I head out, I see that there's an In-n-Out Burger across the street. After hearing so much about it, I had to give it a try. And I give it an enthusiastic thumbs-up. I was skeptical, but the burgers and fries can't be beat, especially for the price. I came to scoff but remained to pray. But I'm slightly annoyed because my budget's already blown to shit at this point.
Once I get back to the Palms, I head over to the race and sports book to catch the end of the Dolphins-Panthers game. I use my first drink ticket to purchase a whiskey sour, which I nurse while I watch Ricky Williams run wild. After the game ends, I change into my clubbing attire and catch a cab to the Venetian. Tao isn't even close to open at this point, so I decide to kill some time at the V Bar. While there, I nurse a Sierra Nevada, which is also reasonably priced. Hey, this Vegas thing might not be so bad! Once I'm done with my drink, I wander confusedly for a while until I reach Tao at around 9:50. While in line, I text blibblab asking where he is. He responds that he's still at his hotel, as he thought Tao opened at 10:30. I get in around 10:!5 and tell him to text me once he gets in. While I'm waiting, I see a guy in Marine dress blues. I go up to him and thank him for his service. He's apparently macking on this one chick, so he's not all too pleased by my presence. Once I sense that I've overstayed my welcome, I bail. Honestly, though, I'm not really a big fan of wearing military uniforms to the club. Trust me, folks. There's nothing in Vegas that's worth getting discharged over.
blibblab gets in around 11, and after a bit of phone tag, we meet up near the statues by the dance floor. I officially declare blib to be a cool cat, and not only because he bought me a whiskey sour. We discussed many topics, including metal (both for), Ed Hardy (against), and Obama (we seemed to be split). I did find it interesting to discover that despite being from Philly, he hates the Flyers and is a Penguins fan. Sellout.
We eventually parted ways, and I was most unequivocally unequipped to fly solo. I paced frantically around the club like the tigers I would see the next day and made a few futile efforts to engage the opposite sex in coversation. The most notable effort involved a mixed-sex group. I'm kind of eyeing this one girl, so one of the guys (who has an accent I can't quite place) says "she's all yours" and tries to force us together. The girl responds by saying something. I can't quite make out what she said, but it was accompanied by clear "do not want" hand signals. The guy informs me that she said that she was a lesbian. That's probably bullshit, but I'm not in much of a position to protest. I decide to bail around 2 and head back to the Palms empty-handed but with an important lesson in mind: fortune favors the bold.
lol
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