Somebodyisfromhere.com arrived in Las Vegas about
15 hours before the rest of my friends would start
trickling in from the rest of the country. The time was
about 7pm on Saturday, June 30th. Most of his group
would be coming from New Jersey with the exception of
a Nebraskan from Chicago. Some people from New
Jersey would be coming by way of San Francisco. This
is only relevant because he was the only one flying out
of Philadelphia (the rest of New Jersey flew out of
Newark).
He probably could've found another flight arriving more
compatibly with my friends, but he liked the idea of
showing up first. The logic goes something like this.
First, He'd be traveling with girls. Their idea of fun could
very well be lying in the sun. Which is all good and well,
but there was more manly endeavors to attend to and
getting there alone might help me get them out of the
way. Second, he just simply wanted more time.
He didn't get a room nor did he ever plan on getting
one. It would be expensive and it would defeat the
purpose of arriving early. His goal was to remain
(roughly) sober avoiding the hospital and jail in the
process. He didn't want to end up like Nicolas Cage in
Leaving Las Vegas. In fact, if at all possible, He'd would
try to be more like Nicolas Cage in It Could Happen To
You.
The following is the journal (still not secure enough to
call it a diary) of that alone time. The times are from 7pm
on Saturday through 10am Sunday when he first saw
friends and ending at about 3pm when he went to sleep.
That would make for more than 30 straight hours awake
(including the flight ect.) spent largely in a strange city.
Logistically, he had purchased a handful of postcards
and scribbled messily on the back of them whenever he
had a chance.
Here is what happened...
15 hours before the rest of my friends would start
trickling in from the rest of the country. The time was
about 7pm on Saturday, June 30th. Most of his group
would be coming from New Jersey with the exception of
a Nebraskan from Chicago. Some people from New
Jersey would be coming by way of San Francisco. This
is only relevant because he was the only one flying out
of Philadelphia (the rest of New Jersey flew out of
Newark).
He probably could've found another flight arriving more
compatibly with my friends, but he liked the idea of
showing up first. The logic goes something like this.
First, He'd be traveling with girls. Their idea of fun could
very well be lying in the sun. Which is all good and well,
but there was more manly endeavors to attend to and
getting there alone might help me get them out of the
way. Second, he just simply wanted more time.
He didn't get a room nor did he ever plan on getting
one. It would be expensive and it would defeat the
purpose of arriving early. His goal was to remain
(roughly) sober avoiding the hospital and jail in the
process. He didn't want to end up like Nicolas Cage in
Leaving Las Vegas. In fact, if at all possible, He'd would
try to be more like Nicolas Cage in It Could Happen To
You.
The following is the journal (still not secure enough to
call it a diary) of that alone time. The times are from 7pm
on Saturday through 10am Sunday when he first saw
friends and ending at about 3pm when he went to sleep.
That would make for more than 30 straight hours awake
(including the flight ect.) spent largely in a strange city.
Logistically, he had purchased a handful of postcards
and scribbled messily on the back of them whenever he
had a chance.
Here is what happened...
S I N g l e C I T Y.
7:11pm: The airport offers a shuttle for $5 to the Strip
which is visible from the airport's exit. I decide a taxi
can't be much more. I take a cab which costs me $27
including tip. Although not worth the price, the cabbie
is a Brooklyn transport with personality to spare. I tell
him I want to play poker and he tells me the Mirage
offers a better room than my destination, Treasure
Island.
7:33pm: My luggage consists of one bight yellow
duffel bag. I have no intention of carrying this around.
I find the baggage attendant and ask him if there's
anything he can do. He responds, "It'll cost you." After
asking how much, he replies, "$20 bucks." I shout,
"Deal!" I feel slick like the guy who bribes the maitre
de for the good seats in the restaurant until I play the
instant replay back in my head realizing that I may
very well have given the guy $20 to do his job.
7:45pm: I eat Subway for dinner. It isn't a very "Vegas"
option, but after spending $50 in the last hour, I like
the prospect of something fast and familiar. I still
spend $10 on a 6 inch sandwich, chips, and soda. I
have only been to one other casino in Vegas, yet I
feel qualified to say that Casino Royale is one of the
trashier options the town offers.
8:15pm: I get my "Welcome to Vegas" moment.
Entering Caesars, the first thing I see is girls in cages
dancing in black underwear. Caesars evidently has a
Pussycat Doll's section. The dealers for these tables
display as much T & A as they do cards. Caesars is
enormous compared to Treasure Island.
9:00pm: As luck would have it, I catch the tail end of
the Bellagio's water show. I'm incredibly pleasantly
surprised. It's scope is magnificent.
9:31pm: Walking around Paris I see Caesars'
fireworks. The display goes on forever. There is
plenty of things for kids to do in Las Vegas, however
it's still a strange sensation to see those little rodents.
10:00pm: I have my first beer at Mirage's Beatles'
lounge. I don't think of it as "drinking" inasmuch, as
medicating. It's going to be a long night and I feel a
need to periodically confuse my body.
10:05pm: The bar is pink and has a crowd of hipster
doofuses. I don't like it. I take my beer to go. I suspect
Yoko is somehow to blame.
10:13pm: I hear two foreigners pronounce "Mirage"
as "me-raaage." I think they might just be on to
something.
10:30pm: Succumbing to my cabbie's advice I sign up
for poker at the Mirage. In the two or three casino's
I've seen thus far, there seems to be a much smaller
emphasis on poker as compared to Atlantic City.
1:14am: I finish poker up $40. I was up as much as $80.
The prospect of getting the money back I spent
earlier pleases me.
A note about the table. I sit next to a respectable local
gentleman. Dressed in a decent button down shirt,
he may not know what he's doing, but he's enjoying
himself and breaking about even. Eventually,
somebody walks up to him and we learn it's his son.
The dad gives his son $100. The kid sits next to his
dad, puts a toothpick in his mouth, and raises his dad
out of about 15 straight hands before his dad loses all
of his money. Once the dad leaves the table, the kid
says to the rest of us, "He doesn't know how to play."
In the next hour, the kid goes on to lose all of his
money. Who knows whether or not I'll be up at the
end of this trip, but at least I still won't be that kid.
1:40am: Back at Treasure Island, I pick up buy one get
one free drinks at Kahunaville. They are strong rum
and cokes. I must remain sober. I go for a walk.
2:20am: I end up at the Frontier (hotel has since been
demolished, sighhhh). They have a sign that reads
"Bikini Wrestling." Another that reads "Cold
beer...dirty girls." How elegant! I mean at least as
Caesar's they have the good taste to put their girls in
cages - - where they belong.
2:30am: Inside Frontier at Gilley's there are cowboy
hats galore. I order a beer. This looks like it could be
the place the locals go to get wasted. It's trashy and
cheap(er).
2:40am: I do a shot called "Adios Motherfucker"
because a girl in spurs tells me to.
2:50am: I walk through Wynn. There's what I believe to
be a Ferrari dealership in the lobby. It's a nice place
to look at, but I don't think there is anything to do. I
did, however, talk to a remarkably pleasant janitor
though, and one can hope that is somehow indicative
of personnel elsewhere throughout the casino.
which is visible from the airport's exit. I decide a taxi
can't be much more. I take a cab which costs me $27
including tip. Although not worth the price, the cabbie
is a Brooklyn transport with personality to spare. I tell
him I want to play poker and he tells me the Mirage
offers a better room than my destination, Treasure
Island.
7:33pm: My luggage consists of one bight yellow
duffel bag. I have no intention of carrying this around.
I find the baggage attendant and ask him if there's
anything he can do. He responds, "It'll cost you." After
asking how much, he replies, "$20 bucks." I shout,
"Deal!" I feel slick like the guy who bribes the maitre
de for the good seats in the restaurant until I play the
instant replay back in my head realizing that I may
very well have given the guy $20 to do his job.
7:45pm: I eat Subway for dinner. It isn't a very "Vegas"
option, but after spending $50 in the last hour, I like
the prospect of something fast and familiar. I still
spend $10 on a 6 inch sandwich, chips, and soda. I
have only been to one other casino in Vegas, yet I
feel qualified to say that Casino Royale is one of the
trashier options the town offers.
8:15pm: I get my "Welcome to Vegas" moment.
Entering Caesars, the first thing I see is girls in cages
dancing in black underwear. Caesars evidently has a
Pussycat Doll's section. The dealers for these tables
display as much T & A as they do cards. Caesars is
enormous compared to Treasure Island.
9:00pm: As luck would have it, I catch the tail end of
the Bellagio's water show. I'm incredibly pleasantly
surprised. It's scope is magnificent.
9:31pm: Walking around Paris I see Caesars'
fireworks. The display goes on forever. There is
plenty of things for kids to do in Las Vegas, however
it's still a strange sensation to see those little rodents.
10:00pm: I have my first beer at Mirage's Beatles'
lounge. I don't think of it as "drinking" inasmuch, as
medicating. It's going to be a long night and I feel a
need to periodically confuse my body.
10:05pm: The bar is pink and has a crowd of hipster
doofuses. I don't like it. I take my beer to go. I suspect
Yoko is somehow to blame.
10:13pm: I hear two foreigners pronounce "Mirage"
as "me-raaage." I think they might just be on to
something.
10:30pm: Succumbing to my cabbie's advice I sign up
for poker at the Mirage. In the two or three casino's
I've seen thus far, there seems to be a much smaller
emphasis on poker as compared to Atlantic City.
1:14am: I finish poker up $40. I was up as much as $80.
The prospect of getting the money back I spent
earlier pleases me.
A note about the table. I sit next to a respectable local
gentleman. Dressed in a decent button down shirt,
he may not know what he's doing, but he's enjoying
himself and breaking about even. Eventually,
somebody walks up to him and we learn it's his son.
The dad gives his son $100. The kid sits next to his
dad, puts a toothpick in his mouth, and raises his dad
out of about 15 straight hands before his dad loses all
of his money. Once the dad leaves the table, the kid
says to the rest of us, "He doesn't know how to play."
In the next hour, the kid goes on to lose all of his
money. Who knows whether or not I'll be up at the
end of this trip, but at least I still won't be that kid.
1:40am: Back at Treasure Island, I pick up buy one get
one free drinks at Kahunaville. They are strong rum
and cokes. I must remain sober. I go for a walk.
2:20am: I end up at the Frontier (hotel has since been
demolished, sighhhh). They have a sign that reads
"Bikini Wrestling." Another that reads "Cold
beer...dirty girls." How elegant! I mean at least as
Caesar's they have the good taste to put their girls in
cages - - where they belong.
2:30am: Inside Frontier at Gilley's there are cowboy
hats galore. I order a beer. This looks like it could be
the place the locals go to get wasted. It's trashy and
cheap(er).
2:40am: I do a shot called "Adios Motherfucker"
because a girl in spurs tells me to.
2:50am: I walk through Wynn. There's what I believe to
be a Ferrari dealership in the lobby. It's a nice place
to look at, but I don't think there is anything to do. I
did, however, talk to a remarkably pleasant janitor
though, and one can hope that is somehow indicative
of personnel elsewhere throughout the casino.
Happy July 4th from
somebodyisfromhere.com and Las Vegas!
full page: July 4th
somebodyisfromhere.com and Las Vegas!
full page: July 4th
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