Las Vegas Part 1

Time couldn’t pass by any slower than it did that Wednesday at the office. I was working for an investment company on the 41st floor of the Transco tower in the Galleria area of Houston. It was a giant 70 story building that stuck out in the skyline of Houston. I was 21 and was a glorified customer service agent. The pay was good and I thought it was like Wall Street. I partied everyday at happy hour and wound up keeping it going all through the night. When the coworkers left around 8, my later friends would show at the bar and we would start all over.

I was a fully licensed broker working in support. I was underachieving like I have always done. I go the job as a result of a great interview and knowing 4 fraternity brothers that already worked there. It was dream job at the time, and I would eventually piss it away due to my alcoholic drinking and behavior. I had a promising future with the company and pissed it away to bartend.

But that particular Wednesday was moving tremendously slow. My roommate Shorty was waiting for me to get off so we could go to the airport. We had tickets that night ot go to Vegas. This was my first trip to sin city and we had all kinds of visions of grandeur. We were going to go there and be all Swingers and be the big winners. The trip is no Max Tucker trip or anything like that, although we all thought it would be when we left. Actually there probably was a good chance that this trip was about the biggest dud of a Vegas trip that could have happened.

Two days before Duke and Jesus left for Vegas in Jesus’ car. Jesus was a late addition to the trip. Originally it was going to be me, Shorty and Duke. Duke decided at the last minute to drive to Vegas with jesus and their trip was filled with snow, New Mexico and tickets, but that is their story.

Shorty and I arrived at Hobby airport with dreams of Vegas riches in our eyes. We boarded the Southwest airline flight and started to party right then. This was pre 9/11 and the airline did not care that 2 drunk guys on their way to vegas are strolling the aisles small talking with everyone and buying drinks for entire sections. About 10 Wild Turkey and cokes into the trip and the back stewardess cut us off. But this is Southwest…and there is always a front stewardess as well. She cut us off about 5 Wild Turkeys later when the Wild Turkey ran out. We drank an entire planes worth of the shit.

When we arrive at the Vegas airport we were greeted by Jesus and Duke holding up a sign for us. They were drunk as winos. We exchanged our hugs and started to play slots at every opportunity at the airport. This place was a amazing. There were slots every 10 feet and they even had a Burger King which would be a big deal Sunday morning when we left. The slots were not that big of a deal 4 days later. This is some foreshadowing.

We get outside to find a New York New York limo waiting to pick us up. Duke explains that they have been winning ever since they rolled into town and the hotel sent a limo to pick us up. This was amazing to me.

We get to the hotel, New York New York and we are greeted by name as we check in. I felt like a big time gambler whale type fellow. Vegas knows how to treat you. We dropped our stuff in the room and met Duke down at the craps table with Jesus. We are laying out bets and could not lose. I took a meager $750 with me thinking that it would be enough. When I left that night I had doubled my money and it was time to go out.

Of course being the big girl that I am I had to check in with my girlfriend, the second Succubus, every hour. She stopped picking up saying that she hated it when she had to communicate from so far away and it made her feel awkward. That would be the last time I called the Succubus for the trip. Fuck her.

It was coming to an end with her anyway. She was going to be dumping me within the next few weeks and I had no idea it was coming but at this point I almost wanted to get caught doing something stupid so she would end it and I could feel sorry for myself.

I can be a big fag.

So we leave the hotel and roll up on the Paradise Club. This is the Vegas strip bar. Over 20 Playboy Playmates were on stage that night. We roll up and the pit bosses from New York New York had taken care of us. This city was awesome. Now I am no Duke in a titty bar. I am a bit of a prude. Something about paying for short term gratification has never seemed like a great thing to do. I am just too much of a Jew to pull It off.

Shorty the whole time is talking about getting in touch with Steve Wynn and opening a bar or club with the billionaire casino developer. Shorty always had a scheme and a plan to open a bar or club or restaurant. He always had a plan. One time he had a plan to import Faberge Clocks…the only problem is Faberge makes eggs…not clocks. He was always a step ahead in the bullshit department and in Vegas it was time for him to shine.

He never met Steve Wynn but he kept talking about it the entire trip.

We left the Paradise club with at least a thousand dollars less than we walked into the place with. Shorty even bought a shirt. We headed back down to the strip where we witnessed Duke eat 4 pounds of breakfast sausage. We went to the Holiday Inn buffet and watched as Duke finished an entire pot of sausage. To this day he still has some of that quality meat lodged into one of his intestines.

By this time we are just lit up and it was time to crash. I don’t think Duke ever went to bed the entire trip and he stayed down in the casino for some more playing time.

When we awoke it was day 2. We had a convertible Mustang that Jesus brought with him and we strolled the strip. We went on a few rides and hit a few buffets and then it was time to drink and head back to the casino. We played for awhile and then we played some more. Shorty and I put on suits so we could be real big players and so he could meet Steve Wynn. We were up more money and I wisely deposited a grand back into my bank account. We were comped into the piano bar at New York New York and promptly went to the front of the 100 person line waiting to get into it.

We arrived and the bouncers knew our names and let us right in. We went to the bar and asked him what our comp was and they said to enjoy the night and the bar tab was on the house. This was the best place on earth. We start putting back Wild Turkey and cokes with Jaeger shot backs. Duke pays $250 to hear American Pie, the full version and I actually kicked a shoe across the bar when the song flips off their shoes. I am dancing with a bunch of girls from Iowa that are just aching for some love…but I am at the too drunk to notice that they want me mode. This is a special level of drunk.

I wind up at the blackjack tables with no shoes and I keep spilling drinks on the table. This is no longer fun for the pit bosses. Duke and Shorty take me to the room where Jesus is passed out. Jesus is broke and is headed to Colorado the next morning for a bar gig. Never even heard him leave.

That night Shorty pulls Duke off a craps table to go get something to eat and to possibly talk to Steve Wynn…well at least to get something to eat. They are gone for 45 minutes and when they return to the table the same guy is still rolling on the table. He had a 45 minute roll. He had turned $500 into something like $50000. Duke just never got over it.

The weekend will even be better…to be continued…