1. Stranger strangers. Strangers in Las Vegas are even stranger than your average stranger. So look out. It's like they want you to know that they're strange. Some guy wore a Barney suit. First of all, we're in Vegas man. It's kind of creepy. Secondly, is Barney even relevant anymore? I'm sure the kids that you're trying to attract have no idea who Barney is anyway. Lastly, it's like 105 degrees out there. Even the kids are probably thinking, "Wow. What an idiot. Stupid purple dinosaur."
2. Bums. Bums in Las Vegas are the most honest bums I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. One guy had a sign that said, "Honestly. I just want some alcohol." But alcohol was spelled "alkohall". I mean, sure I'll give you alcohol. But you should atleast do something with yourself; work for it a little. Like, play a ukelele. Can't afford one? Make one out of a card board and rubberbands. Be crafty. It doesn't even have to sound good. Just as long as you try. I mean, hell, there's a guy down the street wearing a Barney costume. Do you know what kind of skills you need for a job like that? Jack shit.
3. Let's talk magicians. Billboard advertised magicians are usually the way to go. For instance, Penn & Teller put on an incredible show. However, I would look out for street magicians. They put on an incredibly bamboozling, leave you naked in a alleyway kind of show; if that's what you're looking for. First, some shady, heavy set Criss Angel looking son of a bitch will approach you with some free magic. That's your first sign. Nothing is free; especially in Sin City. Next thing you know it, you're surrounded by proud tourists wearing Las Vegas t-shirts and fanny packs. You're trapped, so you give in and the magic begins. Slowly but surely things start disappearing: your wallet, your shoes, your pants. And your boxer briefs have been replaced with tighty whities. Suddenly you notice that the magician is wearing your pants and you can only imagine that he's wearing your boxer briefs too. Then you realize that you're probably wearing his tighty whities. Then he winks at you and you know for sure, yes, you're wearing his tighty whities. But hey, that's just a typical Tuesday afternoon on the strip.
4. Look out for an old man dressed in white slacks, a coral colored blazer, old man tinted bifocal glasses and slicked back greasy hair. He'll try to lure you to his club; which is God knows where. Sure, he's skeevy and creepy. But, he's probably just some old guy with bad fashion sense right? I mean, what kind of club could he possibly be running? Bridge club, Pokeno club, Parcheesi club? It turns out that he was a pimp. And poof! Before I knew it I was dancing on a stage in some dark strip club, wearing tighty whities, and a nametag that said Sweet Cheaks. I was robbed of my self respect and my virginity...again. But hey, that's Vegas baby. Vegas.
5. Spas can be awesome and really relaxing...until the fog clears in the sauna and you realize that you're surrounded by a bunch of naked old men; just letting it all hang out. Then you retreat to the hot tub and oh no, there are more naked old men. Eventually you say, "What the hell?" and just dive in because life's to short to sweat the...old, gross, wrinkled stuff.
6. Billboards on wheels. Trucks with mini billboards attached to them ride up and down the strip. They're usually advertising strip clubs. I thought that my experience with the old man in the coral blazer was over. Then I saw a billboard on wheels drive by with a picture of me with a top hat covering my private parts, my left hand holding a magic wand, and my right hand magically pulling a bunny out of my ass. At that very moment I knew I found my true calling. You can pull the man out of Vegas. But you can't pull Vegas out of the man. Or can you? Abracadabra.
7. What's more mechanical, slot machines or the people that play them? I'm not talking about all people, but the seasoned slot gamblers. They don't even seem the slightest bit enthusiastic. If anything they seem depressed, all slouched down in their chair that's barely holding them up. It's very sad looking. What happens if they win? Do they celebrate by sitting up straight? What if they win big? Do they give a half assed smirk? What if they win really big? Do they do a little dance, a jig perhaps? Then ut oh, boom, heart attack. Dead. That's a bit morbid; kind of a sin. But hey, that's why they call it Sin City right? Right?
8. All of the female dealers at the Planet Hollywood casino show tons of cleavage. They do that on purpose to throw guys and the occasional woman off of their game. So I came up with a counter attack which involves my cleavage. Not the standard cleavage. Oh no. I'm talking about ass cleavage. Ass crack cleavage. Oops! I dropped my chips. Oh yeah. That'll get the dealer all flustered. And it did.
DEALER (Flustered)
You have an ace high.
ME
Umm. I'm sorry ma'am. But...we're playing roulette.
No comments:
Post a Comment