As you’re reading this, I’m probably flying home from Las Vegas. And I’m probably pretty happy about that, because it means I’ve accomplished Assignments 15-17, which are as follows:
15) Attempt to double down. Honestly, this was the whole reason for the trip, and it was inspired by this classic scene from Swingers. (Fast-forward 1:45 min.)
I may or may not have been successful in my gambling exploits. I say “may or may not” because I’m writing this post the Thursday night before our trip. Your guess is as good as mine.
16) Try to sneak into a high-roller room to score a free, top-shelf drink. Our friend Mason swore it could be done, and he swore he could show me how. I agreed that it was probably doable, if one was tall and blonde and Scandinavian, with an inexplicably Russian accent. On Wednesday, I’ll let you know what happened when a short, Irish/Italian brunette gave it a whirl.
17) Wildcard! I did it! And it didn’t involve getting arrested, or stealing Mike Tyson’s tiger, or losing a tooth or doing anything that involved looking sparkly.
…But then again, maybe it did?
While you’re waiting for the full story, I have two fun facts to share about Sin City:
a) Did you know Vegas has its own death ray? Me either, until my brother brought me up to speed a few days before GB and I headed west. Apparently, when the sun hits the new Vdara Hotel’s energy efficient windows and concave south-facing design at just the right angle, laser-like rays beam down on pool dwellers to burn them and melt their plastic cups in a matter of seconds. When the hotel’s CEO tried to prove these allegations false, the rays singed his hair and eyebrows. (If you were the kind of kid who used a magnifying glass to set ants on fire, you probably understand the science behind this phenomenon.)
b) Also, did you know there’s a place where you can sit at a blackjack table, watch sports, order free drinks and have a stripper give you a massage? GB learned this bit of news when a buddy kicked off the conversation like this: “So. How open-minded is your wife?” To which I say, knock yourself out, GB. After 11 years with me, I think you’ve earned yourself a good, old-fashioned stripper rub-down. Meanwhile, I’ll be getting pedicures from some pool boy named Javier.
So there you have it: There’s lots to be told! Be sure to check back soon for the full scoop…
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