Up close and personal with....
My trip to Las Vegas was exciting, blackjack filled and beer soaked. I had a much better time than I ever expected I would, probably because I won some money, and left with a bit of a hop in my step, probably because I won some money.
But, as readers of this space know, awkward celebrity run-ins are something of a specialty for me, so after we somehow stumbled upon Hugh Hefner's birthday party, I was excited for who we might run into, while simultaneously making fun of the throngs of young women crowding around the booth where Hugh Hefner and his harem were expected to gather.
DK (also known as DeCline) and I decided that the most likely celebrities we would see would be AC Slater and Pauly Shore. Personally, I was hoping for a Rob Estes or maybe even a Charlie Sheen, but, sadly, we were left with:
Granted, Robin Leach is, I believe, just below me on the celebrity scale. So were simultaneously excited and disappointed. DeCline somehow snuck into his booth, drank his champagne, and stole a glass from the Playboy Club with his cigar in it, which he accidentally left in his hotel room.
While I did enjoy the trip, Las Vegas is not for me. If I want prostitutes and girls dressed like prostitutes, I'll go on the internet. If I want fat guys wearing moustaches smoking cigars, I'll watch the Blue Collar Comedy Tour. If I want to play Blackjack I'll finally make it to that Gambler's Anonymous meeting. If I want to exacerbate my agoraphobia I'll walk outside my office in the middle of the summer and be overcome by tourists and sausage vendors. If I want to smell like I did last weekend then I can go to Atlantic City, or perhaps somewhere below 14th street.
There are Vegas people, and there are not Vegas people, and after finally making it out there, I have to say that I am firmly not a Vegas person.
Until next time.
But, as readers of this space know, awkward celebrity run-ins are something of a specialty for me, so after we somehow stumbled upon Hugh Hefner's birthday party, I was excited for who we might run into, while simultaneously making fun of the throngs of young women crowding around the booth where Hugh Hefner and his harem were expected to gather.
DK (also known as DeCline) and I decided that the most likely celebrities we would see would be AC Slater and Pauly Shore. Personally, I was hoping for a Rob Estes or maybe even a Charlie Sheen, but, sadly, we were left with:
Granted, Robin Leach is, I believe, just below me on the celebrity scale. So were simultaneously excited and disappointed. DeCline somehow snuck into his booth, drank his champagne, and stole a glass from the Playboy Club with his cigar in it, which he accidentally left in his hotel room.
While I did enjoy the trip, Las Vegas is not for me. If I want prostitutes and girls dressed like prostitutes, I'll go on the internet. If I want fat guys wearing moustaches smoking cigars, I'll watch the Blue Collar Comedy Tour. If I want to play Blackjack I'll finally make it to that Gambler's Anonymous meeting. If I want to exacerbate my agoraphobia I'll walk outside my office in the middle of the summer and be overcome by tourists and sausage vendors. If I want to smell like I did last weekend then I can go to Atlantic City, or perhaps somewhere below 14th street.
There are Vegas people, and there are not Vegas people, and after finally making it out there, I have to say that I am firmly not a Vegas person.
Until next time.
posted by quint at 2:52 PM
1 Comments:
Git-r-Done...
Post a Comment
<< Home