I just got back home into Southern California from Las Vegas about 4 hours ago. I was in the city of sin for 5 days, but before you start thinking strip clubs, orgy’s, and doing blow in the bathrooms, I was staying with my parents in a hotel far away from everything for a family reunion. This was a very muted trip - at least from the perspective of the activities planned: movies with my parents, dinner and lunch with extended family, and .01 cent keno/slots with my 82 year old grandparents with cranberry juice when the cocktail waitress was within shouting distance.
I was somewhat stuck at South Pointe because I decided to fly in from California, as the collective “we” were there without a car. It cost me $25.00 each way to get into the mix (A la the Vegas Strip) when I wanted out of the bland earth tone bingo mecca for a few hours, and that got old real quick - especially if things went down hill at the tables in the other casinos. I’m also convinced that the South Pointe Casino as it’s called has an age limit - in order to hang out here you have to be 65 years old. Immediately I thought up new versions of the name: Crowpoint Casino (Think: “Old Crow”), SouthCroast, and The Croast.
However, as fate would have it, one night I was able to connect with a friend who is stationed out in Las Vegas as he is a proud member of the Air Force and him and I made our way into the action (With him thankfully picking me up) after my parents went to bed at 8:30 on a Saturday night in Vegas.
Now, I’m a tall guy (6′4″) and I don’t have any problems talking to women and one of things I’ve been doing recently with all of the time I have is hitting the gym hard (Thanks unemployment), so if you throw me into the same hormonal demographic as my peers with 6-7 drinks in both of us, and its pretty common for me to be able to slide in and make a few things happen. Folks, this is called foreshadowing in writing and it’s a preclusion to the final “bang” in the story.
We went to “Pure” at Caesar’s palace and after I talked my way into the place without paying a cover, I managed to get myself sandwiched between two young ladies - one a slightly more chunkier version of Princess Blueyez and her friend who shared the same waistline but wasn’t quite up to par with her friend in the face. I’m pretty sure they were not hookers because they were buying me drinks, and truthfully, if they were hookers they’d be broke very quickly because if your going to bother paying for it, you’re going to buy better.
3:30 AM rolls around and both girls are all over me, we’re both making out, sharing 3-way kisses, and just being a sloppy mess. To the onlooker, it could have appeared two ways, 1 way being: Wow, look at that fucking guy! or the more possible variant: Look at that drunk guy with those two fat chicks. But this is Las Vegas, we’re all plastered, and I have the possibility to up my count by two in one evening. I’m game for anything at this pointe.
“Hey, where are you staying? Let’s go back and drink some more in your room.” Princess says.
“Well, I’m in town on a convention (Lie) and my coworker is in the room with me, I can’t kick him out (Another lie, I’m sleeping 4 feet away from my parents) of the room now.” I reply.
“We live too far away, where are you staying?” Princess counters.
“Um.. well.. (Flashes room key) here, it’s kind of new, have you heard of it?” I let out trying to up the Croast’s ante.
Within 3 seconds of witnessing the key to the South Pointe Casino they are doubling over in laughter, and within 30 seconds, they are holding each other’s hands and running for the exit. I guess that told them a few things about myself: 1. I don’t have any money and 2. I could have been duped (Just for the time being) by two very ugly hookers.
Score broad: Croast: 1 Spooner: 0
Entries (RSS)