City of Sin, Group of Sinners

Group Craps
Originally uploaded by Pookah.

Like I mentioned in my previous post, we were in Las Vegas last weekend to celebrate Veteran's Day (isn't that how we all celebrate the holiday?). I have a few delicious memories and they will be recounted below.

Arrival: The flight sucked. There is no other euphamism for it. AWA still has the ashtrays in the armrests. Clearly they need to work on some upgrades. However, I will not complain overly much because my flight cost less than Kevin's poker games.
Eric and I arrived at the New York-New York Hotel at midnight or so – that would be 3AM east coast time – to a screaming crowd of hysterical teenagers. Or maybe it was the rest of our crew. There was a repeat performance an hour later for Estee. Many of us had 40oz. of daiquiri or pina colada in hand. I distinctly remember heading into a bar and dancing and screeching (was that singing?) in front of the live band. It all ended with a pig pile on Kevin, via the pig pile on Jeff, two of our friends who really thought they could get away with going to bed early. The photographs clearly show that our dear photographer (i.e. me) was highly inebriated. They also show Andrew that he was indeed there, even if he doesn’t remember it.

Day 1 (Friday): Michelle stands at craps table next to rich man (or at least one throwing a lot of money down on the table); he hands her a $10 chip to play. She starts rolling and wins the man money. A lot of money. He tosses her $25 chips each time she wins him money and he proposes marriage. Michelle leaves him hanging but walks away with $110.
Ben drags us all over the strip despite our hangovers (although Andrew declines and spends the wee hours of the afternoon recuperating in bed), but we are happy just to be there enjoying each others’ company. We pause for about 3 hours at the Bellagio lunch buffet, whereby my friends continue to prove that the term “buffet” means to gorge oneself on crab legs. Oh, what is that you say? Crab legs aren’t served until the dinner buffet? Actually, that’s true. Mel taught us to be ghetto, and we waited around in the dining room until they served the dinner buffet, thereby saving the group around $80 (saved monies are earmarked for future college funds – and by “future college funds” I mean “future craps table events”). We so cheap.
Before the girls lingerie pillow fight (you know that’s what all you guys were thinking was going on!), there was the New York-New York roller coaster. Michelle and I lobbied for the front car and won. Even better: we talked Estee into going on her first roller coaster that turns you upside-down. I have one word for you: HYSTERICAL. I have never heard sounds like that emanate from a human being before. She was absolutely terrified. And the only reason I knew it was Estee and not some rabid wild beast sitting behind me is because of the ten-second intervals of “OH MY GOD.” I laughed so hard through the ride that I couldn’t even breathe anymore and my stomach felt like I had just finished a 45-minute abs workout. I couldn’t have enjoyed myself more. Neither could Estee apparently. Blind as a bat (she had to take her glasses off on the ride), she was led back into the roller coaster for a second try. Priceless.
The girls hoochie up for the evening, and the guys just throw on the last button-down shirt leftover from the work week that is still clean. We think we’re going to Ghostbar for $25 a head, but Mel looked so pissed off in line that she ACTUALLY SCARED ME OFF TO THE CRAPS TABLES. Okay, so maybe a 5-foot tall Asian girl from New Jersey really isn’t going to scare me into gambling, but none of us (except Ben) liked the idea of spending that much money so we could buy expensive drinks and hang out with vacuous rich people. Instead, we paid for shots at the Palms lounge in the center of the casino, watched Mel get several men at the craps table all hot and bothered, and then played drunken blackjack until the wee hours of the morn. I, of course, watched Ms. “Liquid Courage” Michelle attempt to talk her way into free drinks and free entry into Ghostbar for the remainder of the evening. I have never seen this side of Michelle – very, very HOT, might I add.

Day 2 (Saturday): No hangover for me, thank you very much! I had two Corona’s to Mel’s 99 vodka tonics and managed to get at least two hours of sleep before my insomniac bunkmate decided to get out of bed (ahem, Michelle!). That meant coffee and bagels in Soho at ass-early in the morning (even if it was probably 10AM on the east coast).
Even better, when the hiking crew was up and ready for our Red Rock Canyon (the actual site is here, but the first link is better) tour, we went to In-N-Out Burger for breakfast. FOR BREAKFAST, I tell you! There is nothing that prepares you for a long day of hiking in the desert sun like an all-beef patty and some fresh french fries. I mean it: nothing.

The hike itself is nothing short of mythic. We came, we saw, we laughed, we sang, we slipped, we fell, we laughed some more, Eric’s Camel sprung a leak on his tush, we listened to Nicole’s never-ending social commentary, we cheered on Team Butt, we made friends (well, all except me apparently), we got lost and the GPS couldn’t help us, we got beat up by tough desert scrub, we found a tarantula, we started to lose our minds and shared a Clif bar, we rediscovered the trail, Jeff started a rock slide, we sang “We are the Champions” for minutes on end, and, most importantly, we CONQUERED THE DAMN DESERT. Then we went back to In-N-Out to celebrate. Jeff, like the wild beast he is, even got his fries animal-style. Now there’s a man for ya.
Now despite our desperate need for a multi-day nap, the hiking crew trekked on and joined the rest of our Penn team for dinner at Mon Ami Gabi at the Paris Hotel (in fact, Nicole even broke out the girls – Itsy and Bitsy – for the occasion). We looked fabulous, we ate cow, and we laughed about Ben’s mom. Kevin asked us intimate questions about our pubic hair preferences on the opposite sex and Nicole surprised us all with the blunt reply: “When men primp, it’s just not manly.” Wow, I’m speechless. Hans, my friend, you are one hell of a lucky man!
As for me, I spent the entire dinner in the juvenile corner, i.e. near Eric and Andrew. A small sampling:
Eric: We’re never too old to act like juveniles.
Andrew: Actually, we’re never too old to have sex with juveniles.
Lucky me. Lucky, lucky me.
Speaking of me, we celebrated me. All the girls came back from their group bathroom break in time to break into song – the Happy Birthday song. The waiter deposited the “traditional” birthday profiterole at my place-setting and we all pretended I was another year wiser.
Which was clearly illustrated by my complete inability to keep up with these crazy kids. We went to the MGM Hotel to display our wares at Studio 54, home to the hottest waitresses and acrobats Eric has ever seen. While the kids waited in line, Estee and I bowed out, less than gracefully. She, with an upset tummy, and me, with an ugly disposition. Had I known it was going to be the blow-out bash of the century, I would have fought on. Instead, I’m cursing the noonday desert sun and my decision to keep myself partially sane for the Foreign Service oral assessment (which I managed to FAIL yesterday). Let’s just say that Eric and Jeff were like drunken tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum, and Michelle needed someone bigger than Mel to hold her up while she vomited into the toilet. Ah, memories (none of which those three have, of course).

Day 3 (Sunday): Very painful awakenings. I am no longer able to sleep after 4AM (damn you, Michelle, and your contagious insomnia!). Nicole arrives in the room at 4:30AM. Michelle rouses herself from Eric/Jeff’s bathroom floor/bed and strolls nonchalantly in at 7AM to ask, “Why is my money all wet? And where is my ID?” Estee finishes packing for her early AM flight. I give up on sleep and sit in the hallway to talk to my loving boyfriend, give Estee big HUGS as she leaves, and intercept Mel on her way to check on the boys’ room, where Michelle no longer is. I learn that Michelle’s money is wet because she hit on some guy to get a free drink – and his girlfriend threw her drink on Michelle in retaliation. Once again, liquid courage, my friend. We talk for at least two hours and the conversation is superb. I love my Mel.
Somehow everyone is awake and alive by 10-11AM. We imagine a breakfast buffet, but end up at a sit-down place in the Aladdin instead. I scare everyone with my version of a Bloody Mary. Let’s just say that I am the ONLY ONE who thinks they are delicious. Clearly, my friends have no taste in morning-after beverages.
Approximately seven rounds of hugs and kisses and goodbyes for Nicole and Michelle are given. An hour later, they leave and we check out the Wynn. We are vaguely impressed, but I still think it’s just barely pretty for a tacky hotel in a tacky city in the middle of a friggin’ desert.
And then: the seafood buffet at the Rio. I advise any and all of you reading this to NEVER EVER go there. Four out of ten of us came down with some form of food poisoning. It was not pretty. However, we did get to see the ceiling Mardi Gras party over the casino and once again, I didn’t have to flash the girls to earn some beads. Go me.
Before you knew it, Eric and I were flying high with AWA again. I popped Tylenol PM, became really naseous, thought about throwing up, and then decided that the best way to make friends with the gentlemen sleeping in the aisle seat was to be unvomitous toward him. It was slightly more godawful a flight than the one coming into the city. Mostly because it was a red-eye and Eric and I were expected to be at work in the AM. What a joke. I called in sick and slept.

So that’s the outline of our trip. I honestly have never had so much fun in Vegas. Mel may actually be converting me to a lover of this most tacky desert city. Not only will I be back for her someday wedding at the Bellagio, I may even consider going back for no reason at all! But only if we can have group craps and group sex with Ben’s Mom again.
With that, I must send out my love to the Vegas crew who made last weekend the best weekend of 2005: Michelle, Estee, Nicole, Mel, Kevin, Andrew, Jeff, Eric, Ben, and Ben’s Mom. You guys totally ROCK MY WORLD.