Viking Blood and Bad Decisions: DECF Does Vegas 2: Sunday, Part 2

Posted: March 21, 2011 by kaostheory in Slice of Life
Tags: , , , , , ,

One note on this half of Sunday before I begin. I’m going to do my best to piece this together but these notes are drunken and horribly scribbled. The fact that they actually EXIST is a testament to my dedication to the idea of recapping my experiences. I’ll do my best to get these down as best I can, but there’s only so much I can do with garbage. Also, one further note: Sunday nights in Vegas for whatever reason tend to FUCK me. It did last year. It did this year. I’m sure it will next time I show up there – either for a bachelor party or just Spring Break again. Sunday nights make Monday mornings horrible. But more on that next entry. For now? The second and insane half of Sunday night.
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After fucking around with gambling for a little while, we went back up to the room to change. My choice of clothes for the night was a nice black suit that fit me a little better than the gray one and my blue/purple iridescent shirt, which I still believe is totally badass and not gay at all. Fortunately, our reservation was at Prime Steakhouse, just next door at The Bellagio, so we were able to just trot over there around 7:30. I gotta say…not the best experience. I mean, the food is fantastic – we both got steaks (Superfly got peppercorn and I got a bone-in ribeye) – but it…it’s not a place I would recommend. To start with, as soon as we got there, we saw that there were tables open near the windows so we could have a great view of the fountains but when my brother asked if we could have one of them, the maitre’d responded, and I quote, “I’m sorry, but those tables are reserved for our priority customers”. Priority customers. Translation? “I’m sorry, but you clearly aren’t important enough to warrant prime seating”. Superfly and I were so insulted that he nearly made us walk out right there, but we managed to calm down and get seated at a not-bad table instead. Of course, our waiter, an older man, also clearly didn’t consider us important enough. We saw him about three or four times all meal. He did not, shall we say, get a good tip. This is the thing that chaps my ass is this: how did those men that we were NOT going to drop a couple thousand on a huge meal and wine? We could have been heirs to a fortune and could have loaded up the bill. Instead, because we were young, we got less than optimal treatment. Poor show. We’re not going to go back again.

The next stop, though, was by far and away the best of the trip. Why, you ask? Simple. Titties. We went to X-Burlesque at The Flamingo. It was the greatest public experience of my life. Notice I prefaced it with public, since I have had a few private moments that have been much more awesome, but those are neither here nor there. Anyways, we stood in line about a half hour behind these two couples, one of which was very nice and the other which was obnoxious. Surprisingly, the older couple was the obnoxious one. He was clearly a grizzled Vegas vet and she was his “trophy” floozie (although trophy is generous – call her more the ‘participation’ ribbon). Amusingly, the two of them didn’t have VIP passes like they thought they did so we were able to go in ahead of them and take our table. The tables are small and really packed in but they’re very close to the stage which is the important thing. And boy, is it.

It was incredible. Gorgeous girls without tops on is a very underrated subset of American society. Criminally underused. I can’t even go into detail about what I saw. A stunning blonde doing “When You’ve Got It, Flaunt It” from The Producers (basically now the default setting for my Happy Place). “Hey, Big Spender”. Multiple rap songs. This way hot “Innocence” thing. A legs thing that got most guys sweating, if they weren’t already. This one girl that looked like Danica McKellar doing a song that was basically just “Um, I noticed you, I found you very attractive, will you go to bed with me?” (more or less). And of course, the requisite hot-as-hellfire Asian to go along with almost dead-ringers for Zooey Deschanel and Julia Allison. They even had a comedian for “half-time”, James Bean, that was maybe the funniest guy I’ve ever seen. Walking out, nearly every guy that was there had the biggest shit-eating grin on his face, myself included. Incredible.

After we left The Flamingo, we began the process of sending the night spiraling. The tipping point? Stopping at an on-Strip liquor store for 16 oz. Dos Equis cans. From there, things just got…weird. As we walked, we were suddenly accosted by a very animated lady ushering over to a “movie booth” with a motorcycle and a green screen. Apparently, we needed to make our own shitty-quality movie for free (with the implication that we’d pay money for a copy of the shitty-quality movie). We shrugged, said ‘what the hell’ and went and did it. It was bizarre but I at least got to chug my beer and flip off a crowd of people gathering to watch which was okay. And no, we didn’t buy the damn thing. It was horrendous, worse than I was thinking. About two hundred yards from there, this guy dressed in a nice suit came up to us and asked if we wanted to go to a strip club. We almost took him up on it but rationalized that we didn’t have any ones and probably shouldn’t be deviating from our route anyway, so we declined.

Eventually, we made it to The Palazzo and Lavo. It was…unspectacular. There aren’t even really any notes available other than a scribbled “sucked” followed by “fine, okay”. Whatever that means. Oh wait, before we hit Lavo, we were shangheid in The Palazzo by a dude with the promise of no cover into a not-very-hopping bar. I think it was called V? Something like that. It was alright. Pretty quiet. We each killed a Corona and flirted with the bartender a bit. Nothing more to that. THEN we did Lavo and all that stuff I said about it up there.

Honestly, I don’t know how we got to The Bellagio. I have in my notes that we taxied, which we may have, but I recall also walking at night through the shops at Caesar’s Palace. Maybe that was the night before? It’s all kind of a blur. I do know that we made it to Caramel (a lounge) and get two for one drinks from a bartender with unbelieveable tits. Like, they may have been the most magnificent ones I’ve seen in person and I don’t throw that moniker around lightly. Spectacular doesn’t begin to describe it. While I was drinking, I was hitting on the hot brunette next to me and she seemed receptive until another guy went on her other side at which point she started talking to him. Bitch. Whatever. It was on to The Bank.

The Bank has never really been a…particularly positive experience for Superfly and I. The wait, even with the VIP passes, is way too long and it was this time as well. The way they play their admission is absolutely unfair. We bought the VIP passes which means that we should go in first, right? Apparently wrong. Apparently their default is “Oh no, man. We’re at capacity. Nobody getting in right now.” even in plain view of the many people walking out the club. Although, for a hundo in the pocket, apparently they aren’t at capacity anymore. Fucking douchebags. All of us in the VIP line, including a hot Egyptian chick that I was into, were drunk and pissed off. It was not a pleasant atmosphere in that line. At least I passed the time hitting on the chick, which was fun. After a far-too-long wait, our VIP passes seemed to work and we were let in. The Bank is never “in control”. It’s always way past the line of being able to be constrained. It’s just noise and light and dancing and sweat and sex. It’s pretty cool. It’s even cooler when Superfly and I together drop a hundo on drinks and have a great spot to stand and take pictures and chat with European dudes who don’t really get the vibe of the club. Oh and apparently the Black Eyes Peas were there, although I didn’t see them. Chaos is the best word for it.

I have no idea how long we were there. All I know is that we made it back to The Cosmo, went and got tater tots at The Henry, went back to the room and crashed the fuck out. Sleep was merciful to me because let me tell you…the next morning was not.
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The last two days of the trip will be up tomorrow (God willing). As if it even matters, right?

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