Some people travel to Las Vegas, the debauchery capital of the world, to soak up the nightlife, catch a show and eat at a few lavish restaurants. And in between all that, they may throw $20 into a slot machine. Then some other people, like yours truly, shamefully morph into an absolute crackhead the instant their plane lands. Some people watch a Louie Anderson set at the Excalibur. Others toss dice next to a pimp from Atlanta at an MGM craps table. To each his own.
For the duration of my last three-day trip to Sin City, it was ugly. I was like a blind guy playing Jenga — I couldn’t stop losing. By the last night I was so low on funds that I was reduced to eating dinner at the Hooters Hotel & Casino. If you’ve never been, and here’s to hoping you haven’t, the Hooters casino is kind of like, nay, exactly like, a methadone clinic that serves chicken wings.
I was tapped. After nearly 72 hours, I was down over $3,000. Three f’n grand! I don’t have that kind of money to lose! I attempted to slay the mighty beast that is Las Vegas and I failed…like so many before me. The first day I was eating steak and downing drinks in the pool at The Hard Rock. Now I was reduced to eating curly fries while joking about whether or not I’d sleep with a fat, old Persian woman for casino chips.
For the record, I absolutely would have. I went to bed that night cursing my love for Las Vegas and vowing that I’d never return.
Then came the next morning.