THIS STORY MAY OR MAY NOT BE ENTIRELY FICTION. USE YOUR OWN JUDGEMENT.
Okay, I'm going to warn you all right now. If you don't want to hear a tale of pure debauchery, (in which the names will be changed to protect the guilty) then please don't read on. However, I've decided that I should include some of the more than mundane events which have graced my life, during this magical life journey. Maybe I'll even spice them up so they sound better than they actually were to increase my readership. So please DON'T READ THIS IF YOU ARE OFFENDED BY VILE LANGUAGE, DIRTY TALK, AND/OR NUDE IMAGES (in your mind)
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| A foretelling of the future? Not mine, but maybe Deuce's |
Meeting "Zach" Galifianakis must have been some secret warning signal that the universe was sending me. If I were to read it again, more closely this time, it would probably be saying, "Take it easy on the free drinks, Stupid!"
So, the truth is when I told you that I couldn't actually remember my nights in Vegas, I was only partially telling the truth. As it so happens, I did begin to remember the lurid details as the days wore on, and the fog began to clear. Also, I was reminded by those participating in my two monumental nights of decadence and debauchery of my less than clever drunkenness.
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| Oh you wicked jester, beckoning me. |
First lets begin with the fortunate synchronicity of circumstance which unbelievably led me to that city of sin in the Nevada desert. You see, when I first set up my map for the journey I didn't include Las Vegas. Afterall who would ever think to interview a magician in Vegas? ... far too easy. So I was going to drive from Albuquerque to Phoenix, and from there on to Los Angeles. But fate wanted me to land in Vegas. And as it so happened, I had made plans to stay with my good friend Jack and his wife Wendy, (oh wait I mean, Fred and his wife Ethel.).yeah that's the ticket... in LA. But as this journey is taking twists and turns along the way, that just didn't pan out the way I'd planned. (Oh wait, I mean my good friend "Deuce" planned.) First, Deuce added a trip to Key West, then Deuce added a stop in Orlando, then an extra day in Jacksonville Beach, and a couple of extra unplanned days in Wichita and Oklahoma City.
So when Deuce called my friend, erh.. Fred and told him he'd be in LA on Friday. Fred said, "well that's great, but we won't be there."
"Crap!" I thought. (oops I meant Deuce thought. )
So Deuce had an epiphany. Since Fred and Ethel weren't going to be in LA, he'd just re-route his trip and instead of going through Phoenix, he'd just take a couple days and do Las Vegas. After all, you can throw a deck of cards into the air in Vegas and chances are ten to one that you'll hit a magician. So Vegas it was!!! Whooop.
YOUR FINAL WARNING, DO NOT PROCEED IF YOU WANT TO KEEP A HIGH OPINION OF ANYONE INVOLVED
Deuce found a magician to interview from a friend of his who lives in Vegas, and decided to book the Mirage because that was where this magician was performing. Deuce had to rush there in order to get to see this amazing lounge show. Of course there were drinks involved because.. well Deuce is a drinker, and it's Vegas. Unfortunately Deuce had made the bartender his friend early on because, well, he's just such a damn likeable guy, and so his bar tender friend hammered him with VODKA, soda, and splash of cran. Notice the word "vodka" is in all caps. Four of these bad boys and by the time Deuce was done watching the show, he was already blotto. So after a few dribbling discussions with a magician or two, Deuce decided he would go to the casino and play some slots and craps. I know, gambling and drinking, can only lead to bad things. Or rather, my good friend Duece knows that.
YOUR ABSOLUTE FINAL WARNING - AND I'M NOT KIDDING HERE.
For some unknown reason Deuce always seems to be lucky when it comes to gambling. Maybe because the universe is somehow making up for his bad luck in other areas of life, but somehow he is almost always ahead in the games of chance. There doesn't seem to be a time when he loses, or at least loses big. Well Deuce won a small amount on the craps table after playing for about an hour, and he was $60 ahead.
Then it was off to the wheel of fortune machines because, he could get free drinks just by sitting there pulling the lever. Lord knows he could still see, so he must need more drinks. But Deuce had a theory, which is hard to imagine in his drunken stupor. His theory was that if he only bet a dollar on a wheel of fortune for five pulls after any win, that he would beat the house odds. So he played on. Nothing could deter him as he watched his fortune grow over the hours. Then he watched it deplete, then grow, then deplete. However slowly he was gaining. So he decide that he'd cash out after every $100 gain and put that in his pocket. At the end of the evening he was feeling pretty good. He had several hundred dollar bills now tucked tightly in his pocket.
So, off to the bar for an appetizer and a night cap (as if he needed one) before he went to his room to watch his $12 movie. As he drank a martini, he attempted his best moves on a couple of the young ladies there at the bar, he bought them a drink, showed them a card trick, and of course after finishing it, they promptly left for another club without him.
It was at that moment, that Deuce decided to call it a night. He paid his tab, with cash from his wallet, and began to walk out of the bar. He looked across the way and there sat a beautiful woman in a silky, blue blouse, with dark black hair, striking, beautiful, blue eyes and moist ruby red lips. Those eyes were fixed on Deuce as he walked around the bar and out the door. It was as if those eyes were some sort of magical tractor beam, and they locked on to poor Deuce and he was unable to leave, frozen in his tracks as his eyes met those of the beautiful young woman now staring him down from her seat across the bar.
He turned and as if memorized by her very beauty, he made his way back into the bar and almost hypnotized his way into to the stool next to her. As he found himself sitting there, she put her hand on his knee and said, "Why don't you buy me a drink?"
Deuce did buy her a drink and then eventually got around to a little chit chat. Her name was Mercedes, of course it was, probably because as she said, "she's an impressive ride."
Deuce was never too sharp about these type of transactions, but he had a suspicion about this one and eventually said, "So how much?"
"A thousand dollars, for the ride of your life, baby."
Deuce almost choked with a spew of his drink, and an out loud laugh. "You've got to be kidding," he said. "not that you're not amazingly beautiful, incredibly sexy, but hey, I didn't fall off the turnip truck this morning. Where do you think I'm from, Idaho?"
"So you didn't win tonight I take it?" asked Mercedes
"No, on the contrary I did win," he replied. "I'll tell you what I'll do," he said. "Since this is Vegas, are you a gambler?"
"I don't know. Why?" she answered intrigued just a little.
"I'll tell you that I know I have more than a hundred dollars in my wallet and that I was a winner tonight," he said, "I really don't know how much I have there, but I'll give you whatever I have in my wallet, if you're a gambler, you might be a big winner."
She tried to get him to tell her how much he had but he insisted that she gamble. Well it was getting late and the price always goes downward as the hour gets later. Not that Deuce would know that.
So she said, "OK."
All I can say is that Deuce had $257 in his wallet that night. And after the night was over he had $7 in his wallet, which Mercedes was kind enough to leave for his coffee at Starbucks. You see just like me Deuce has to have Starbucks coffee and write his blog. However, what Mercedes didn't know was that a good gambler like Deuce always stuffs a few hundreds in his pocket as he plays to keep from spending them, $400 to be exact.
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Waking up around noon, Deuce went out to photograph some of the town for his blog with the love of his life, his trusty Canon 30D digital 35 milometer camera.
As fateful as the string of sevens he threw at the craps table that morning, things were going to get amazing and strange.When he posted to Facebook that he had arrived in Vegas, and was staying at the Mirage, he got a call that changed everything. It was my good buddy, and his, Fred.
"You Son-of-a-bitch, Ace, (oops I mean "Deuce") are you in Vegas?" he asked.
"Why yes, Fred, you 'ol bastard," Deuce replied.
"You know why Ethel and I aren't at home in LA?"
"No"
"Because we are in staying in Vegas, believe it or not, across the street from your hotel at the Venetian. So why don't you meet us for dinner?"
"NO WAY!!!!! Too effen funny. I'm on MY WAY!!!"
Now Fred and Ethel are always a ton of fun, so Deuce met them and they bought him an amazing, dinner. Then Fred and Deuce decided to go to a bar and see what trouble they could get into. Fred told Deuce that they'd play the video poker at the bar until he made $500 then he'd take them to the world's largest strip club for a little family entertainment.
The night wore on as they watched the total get up near $500 on the winnings line, but never get over it. Just when he was about to give up, Fred hits the four aces which pays $400 and BAM! They had $800 in tittie bar money.
So the jumped up, high fives and danced out the doors to find a taxi. A quick cab ride and they were walking into the world's largest strip club, "Sapphires."A place beyond your wildest fantasies a club, the size of a football stadium with multiple floors of a thousand topless gyrating girls in g-strings.
After checking in and a cover charge, two girls grabbed Deuce by the arms and began to drag him off. "Wait a minute girls, I just want to get a drink, with my buddy."
"Don't worry we'll meet up with him later, we need to give you a tour of our club."
So they dragged him off by the arms, coquettishly giggling as they did. Deuce was led down some hallways and found himself in a private room with red patent leather couches and maroon curtains draped by large golden cords. "Here sit," said one of the girls, "we can get a bottle of champagne and give you a private dance."
"Wait a minute," asked Deuce, "how much is this going to cost?"
"You can have the ultimate fantasy," she said, "for only $1000."
Again, Deuce spewed a big laugh, "Why would I pay a thousand dollars for a fantasy, when I know for a fact you can get an amazing hooker here in Vegas for $250?"
"Some men prefer the fantasy," she said.
Can you believe that, cause I can't. Some men prefer the fantasy as apposed to the real thing? Yeah I'm buying that, and neither did Deuce. So they reluctantly went back to the main floor where Fred was now seated alone.. yeah that's the ticket.
Well, Deuce really had no liking for the two girls which seemed to be attached to him like a couple of barnacles with boobs. He finally just asked them, "Do you suppose you girls could just give me a break and let me drink a drink alone?"
Well they huffed a little and then went to Fred's lap. Deuce, in the meantime was approached by the shooter girl, a good looking blond, with a gorgeous smile and beautiful brown eyes. Mr. cool himself, Deuce before long had the shooter girl, whom he didn't have to pay for a dance, sitting in his lap. Next thing you know, they were kissing like a couple of teenagers in heat. That damn Deuce needs to get a grip on his public displays of debauchery. But he no sooner was about to get her number, I think by way of reading the bumps on her chest, when that $1000 dancer girl, which he didn't like in the first place, proceded to push the cute shooter girl from his lap and proclaim, "She has to leave, your friend just bought you two dances from me."
"But t t t...but.. but.." was all he could mutter as the shooter girl disappeared into the smoke filled room of bouncing bodacious boobs and butts.
The obnoxious dancer now sat in his lap... for two songs and then suddenly Fred declares, "Deuce, we have to go, I've run out of money."
"All right by me." Deuce said standing up. And then it got strange.
The rude dancer girl, grabbed Deuce's glasses and declared, "You owe me $200 for dances."
"Hold on there, and give me those back," Deuce said sternly.
"Not until you pay me," she replied in defiance.
Whether it was some stroke of genius or out of shear blind panic, Deuce grabbed her by the wrist and yelled out at the top of his lungs, "HELP!!!! HELP!!!!"
The girl quickly stuck his glasses in his hands and when he let go of her she vanished much the same as the shooter girl into the smoke and mirrors.Then as the security guard comes up to find out about Deuce's girlish scream, Fred suddenly declares, "Those bitches stole my phone!"
The bouncer was then shining his light all over the floor as the two drunken stumblers searched for the "lost" phone. Totally rejected, the two saturated compadres headed back to their prospective hotels. The desert sun was coming up, and it was miserably hot. Deuce was falling forward catching his feet under him, drunk as he headed back to his room. As he crossed Las Vegas boulevard to the Mirage, he was almost to the door when it dawned on him. "OH MY GOD!! I DON'T HAVE MY CAMERA!"
His mind (what little was left of it) raced for an answer.. "Where the hell did he leave it." He recalled having it at the bar when he and Fred had won the $400 jackpot. Now it was full sun up as he dragged himself from bar to bar in search of his camera, he finally came to the bar where he thought it was to be found. Of course they were already vacuuming the floors and the chairs were upside down on the tables. The one person there, a janitor, was quick to say, we didn't find it, but you should check with security, they have a lost and found.
So Deuce made his way to the lost and found almost beyond hope. He was starting to tear up over the loss of his $3000 camera, which he knew was crucial to his trip and filled with pictures for his blog. When the security guard told him, "sorry we don't have it." He burst into tears, saying in his drunken downturn to himself, "My life just sux."
He dragged himself dejectedly back across the street, hot, still stumbling, tired as hell, completely worn out and now beginning to sweat the alcohol from the night before. As he walked up to the doorman the doorman looked and him and said, "Looks like somebody had a hell of a night."
Deuce grumbled something back and somehow made it to the right floor. Walking down the hall he had never felt so awful in his life, so low, he was truly that drunk loser everyone has seen in Vegas. It was at that moment that he fell to his own lifetime low, as he spied a food cart, and there on it, a plate of macaronni and cheese, neatly set outside of the guest's room for the cleanup crew.
"Hell they only ate a little of it." he thought to himself. And like the drunk degenerate he'd become he grabbed a handful of the tasty treat and shoved it in his mouth declaring "why the hell not," in his mind.
The next thing he recalls was finding himself fully dressed laying on the bed staring at the clock radio which was now blaring a beep, beep, beep.
"Oh %$#@! it's 11:30. What time is checkout?"
Deuce called down to the front desk, yes, and then paid the extra $39 late checkout fee.
His next memory is waking up to a maid who was saying, "Oh so sorry, Senor. My apologies." and her scurrying out the door before he even realized he was completely naked. You see Deuce had gotten his clothes off this time, but still not made it back into the bed.
He looked at the clock and it was now 3:00. His head was throbbing now, but his mind was beggining to clear. Images of the night were like old Polaroid pictures taking shape as he held them under his sweaty armpits. Then there it was on the floor, a piece of macaroni.
He had a huge laugh for at that very moment he not only recalled eating the handful of macaroni, he realized...
OMG!!! They check cameras before you go into a strip club..
And there in his wallet was a ticket, a receipt, for the love of his life, his Canon 30D camera.
And now you know the story that is or isn't true about what really happened that night in Vegas.
Oh and Fred found his phone at that same bar where Deuce thought he'd left his camera.
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