That’s right, I am off to Sin City for a 72-hour bender. Staying at my good friend Bill’s apartment, who knows what’s gonna happen. Things might get weird. Two of us wolves running around the desert together, in Las Vegas, looking for strippers and cocaine! But for real, we have literally nothing planned, and that’s the way to do it. Apart from at least one trip to In N Out, everything’s gonna be completely spontaneous. I was told to bring some “mountain shit”, but frankly I don’t know what that means so I’m just gonna run with it. No gas, the only thing I have that I know might fall under the “Mountain Shit” category is my inhaler. I’m breaking out my new suit because I have to at least LOOK like a high roller. I’m bringing my GoPro so we can hopefully document the debauchery that will ensue upon my arrival. Hopefully I can make a little money, get a tailored alligator skin suit, jump on top of the craps table, and order a diet Pepsi and some hot wings like Chris Tucker. In fact, if I don’t have a small Asian man wheeling me around the casino while I fan myself with hundreds, consider it a failed trip. I’ve already done AC multiple times, and now it’s time to Viva Las Vegas. Fuck, this is gonna be dope. I might get married, I may never come home.
I made a list of 6 things right after I graduated to buy/do within the next year. Vegas is the first to knock off the list. (Some of the others included moving into my own apartment, buying a bullhorn, and getting a tempurpedic mattress.) I’ve been to Vegas before but as a youngin, never since turning 21, so this is essentially my first real trip out there. Vegas is pretty much a right of passage into the real world. I might not be able to hit up any high profile pool parties but hey, it should be a pretty good time. Contrary to popular belief it’s not 90 degrees year round in Vegas.
As much as I enjoy flying, there’s a few things I’m not looking forward to on my flights. There is guaranteed to be at least one crying baby on tomorrow’s flight. If there’s a baby on the red eye home, we’re gonna have problems. And I wouldn’t be surprised if the have the fat smelly guy right next to me in row 26 (not the last row, I’m not that poor). I’m also dreading the walk of shame from the front to the back, giving every person in first class a chance to gloat. Hopefully I’ll be able to upgrade on the way home if you catch my drift haaaaa. I’m not sure about the policy on supplying snacks/meals on these flights, but if I can’t get a bag of munchies or honey roasted peanuts I might have to demand they land the flight and let me out. (Disclaimer: not a real threat, I know y’all take that shit quite seriously).
Work on Monday is going to SUCK.