Friday, March 30, 2018

Welcome to Fabulous Cheap Vegas


Saturday - Day 1 continued...

I get seated in the Dreaded Middle Seat, a five hour flight ahead of me, SMH FML WTF.

Fortunately, the lad to my left - while very excitable - is fairly thin. The fellow to my right isn't overflowing the seat or anything, and he's keeping to himself, so other than elbow-wrestling for the armrest, the ride shouldn't be too bad.

The fellow to my left says a few things to someone behind us and then I know. A few minutes later, I confirm it.

"You're Irish aren't you."

"Ayy di diy di diy," he replies.

"Why aren't you drunk?"

This is all in good fun because I'm part Irish (the drinking part). So we chat a bit and he chats a bit with his other pals, and with almost everyone aboard, I see Line Guy coming down the aisle - alone. More Ayy Di Diy chatting occurs between Line Guy and basically everyone around me for four or five rows - all Irish.

After I ask the lad if they are part of a team or something and I get the story. They are part of a bachelor party. Now it all falls into place like a limerick, in an A A B B A rhyming scheme. But there's more. They are part of a DOUBLE bachelor party. Two grooms.

Beer Irishman happens to be the brother of one of the grooms, and as the doors close, the story circulates around. As we take off, I can't stand it any more and I ask the lad next to me what happened.

No, Beer Irishman didn't get on the plane. They took him away. In handcuffs, hands behind his back.

I say to the little fella next to me, "I bet I can guess what his name is."

"Ayy di diy di guess lad diy di, what?" says the little fella.

"Literally O'Fucked."

It seems likely that he will never see Las Vegas and will be deported right back to the Emerald Isle.

We chat about Vegas - they are all going for the first time. I like this lad. And I feel sorry for his very stupid friend. I ask him what they plan to do, and the answer is fairly predictable - clubs, strip club, drinking, gambling. Hey, it's a stag, what else?!

I ask him where they are staying.

"Ayy di Excalibur!"

Dear God.

I smile politely and tell him that it is a fine choice for a group of young drunken single Irishmen and they will find plenty of epic things to do in that part of the strip. There's just no point in getting into it, why bogart his trip doobie?

The trip passes surprisingly quickly. I watch some of my shows, and eat the travelburrito, which is surprisingly palatable. I take my time and chew each bite 69 times, extending the as long as possible the time that the burrito will entertain me. One should always take one's time while masticating, don't you agree?

Finally we land in Las Vegas, touching down at exactly midnight my time. I text the Quad Queen.

"The Lunchbox has Landed."

Ten excited winners, and one loser. Wrong way, dickhead!!!

I'm in no hurry to shuffle off the plane, because I've gate-checked my carry-on, as have most of us. So I know I've got to wait for luggage at the carousel anyway.

It takes what seems like forever. As usual, I'm stymied by the pig-ignorant yokels who step in front of me only to crowd the front of the carousel, blocking the view for everyone else, even though their bags are nowhere to be seen. It feels good to get the first whinge of the day taken care of.

The luggage does take what seems like forever, a good reminder of another reason never to check bags. Then it's mosey on up to the rideshare launchpad, nestled romantically in soft embrace of the parking structure.

If you followed the Blunder Down Under trip you might remember that I spent approximately 73% of my waking hours trying to get my Uber account fixed. With every communication, I had explained the issues to someone new, until after two weeks, I had dealt with every single Ethan Manbun and yoga pants vocal fry Vapey von Snaptagram that Uber has on their support staff.

The moment of truth has arrived.

And holy shit, it works this time. I'm actually shocked. Thank you Vapey (or Ethan, or maybe Jaycob or Ashli or Konnr or Skye or ) for sealing the deal - now I have both Lyft and Uber, which is good, because two rideshares is one, one rideshare is none.


The ride to the Nugget is acceptable and finally I've made it! There's nothing better than walking into the hotel at the start of a trip. It's like joining a never-ending party. I begin an unacceptably long wait to check in, behind some hot, large, boa-wearing women in costume, similar to the hordes of other hot, large, boa-wearing women in costume I see around me. There must be an event on. A large, hot event.


Finally it's my turn. The lobbyist mumbles something about the suite. I don't pay much attention. I had upgraded to a club floor suite in the Gold tower, and I don't care anymore. I'm just too tired. I get keys. I go.

By the time I unlock the door to the suite on the third floor, it's a full two hours and five minutes since we touched down at McCarran.

Third floor? I forget about having one of those stunning Vegas views. I know it's going to be a Vision of Rooftop Industrial HVAC Splendour. I don't care.

I grab the elevator to the third floor, skirting the exciting buzz from the casino. Soon! First thing I notice is that my suite has two doors. Side by side, with the same room number.

I go in and... it's a full, two room, two bath suite with wet bar and dining area. Yahtzee!


Because I am a serious writer of slap-dash trip reports, I take photos of everything with my phone. Then I take them again with my G16. The phone is to show people at home, facebook, and wherever else quick snaps are needed. The G16 is for per-fessional images of gold and brown furnishings.

That done, I assess my bankroll for the trip.


It may not seem like much, but I've had a plan for weeks. And I plan to execute on that plan. I will walk over to Main Street Station, and I will play the Aces no Faces coin-dropper machines. With any luck, I will be dealt four Aces (with no face card) and win 7500 quarters immediately. Or otherwise, I will win enough to sustain my gambling for the trip. Now it's time to put a weeks-long fantasy to the test.




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