I was in Las Vegas recently. The only other time I had been there was during my junior year spring break in college, where one of my favorite memories is throwing hamburger patties from the windows of the Monte Carlo.
This trip, on the other hand, requires bullet points:
- We stayed at the MGM, where there lives a lion.
- I learned how to play craps, one of the more rule-laden casino games. As luck would have it, as soon as I bought in, it was my turn to roll the dice. I was nervous about making sure that the dice hit the back of the playing field, and I over-threw my first roll with such force that the die completely missed the table, landing somewhere to the left of it. I was granted another try and schooled on how to flick my wrist, and, on that turn, one of the dice rolled properly. The other bounced off the rim and went down the shirt of a man at the end of the table … who was seated in a wheelchair.
- We saw LOVE, which was amazing. When I had come to Vegas in college, we had seen Chippendales — this was a much classier experience. The side effect is that I can’t get Beatles music out of my head. It’s getting hard to be someone, but it all works out …
- We learned that you have to be at a mega-club (or “ultra-lounge,” as I believe it referred to itself as) before midnight or you lose your spot on the guest list. Whatever, we’ll just write a comment card.
- Two members of our party got tattoos. At the tattoo parlor was a guy who announced that this was the shop in which he had gotten his first tattoo ever. The location he chose for his virgin inking? His forehead. Obviously.
Of course, the best part of this trip was that I got to see some of my friends that I never see anymore.