Las Vegas Day Four (Part 2): May 28, 2011



Rick James once famously said in an interview on the Chappelle Show that “cocaine’s a helluva drug.”  The same could be said for liquid cocaine, the street name of vodka Red Bulls.  The three of us hit the Strip and looked like wild monkeys running a 40-yard dash.  We weaved around clusters of pedestrians and snuck up on each other to jump-smack whatever bald spot was available.  My smacking was as limp-wristed as my punching.  There was one time when I leaped into the air behind Rob to smack his head and from some subconscious recess I thought, “what if that isn’t Rob,” so I misfired.  Then, Rob had jumped on the back of one of us.  I can only assume it was me because I have a hazy recollection of being pitched headlong on the sidewalk, only to regain my balance before serious damage could be done.

All inhibitions were down.  We had spent three days walking around Vegas, intentionally giving the card-flipping smut peddlers the Heisman (I was more polite, actually deigning to give a head shake or a “no” at many offerings), but not that night.  I took a card or booklet from anyone who offered, which set off a chain reaction of others handing me their cards.  I felt like a politician shaking hands with my constituents, eagerly and happily accepting the well wishes from the masses.  Once at the Paris, I had a huge stack of porn star collector cards, which I immediately deposited into the nearest trash bin.  I may have been drunk, but I don’t litter. 

Similar to the Jabbawockeez show, the doors to the Anthony Cools show were already open and people were finding their seats.  I could have used a stop at the bathroom, but we were worried about missing the show and we went right in.  The show started shortly after and Mike immediately volunteered to be hypnotized.  Anthony asked for several volunteers and it soon became obvious why.  Whenever a person showed any signs of not accepting a suggestion, he was escorted off the stage.  Anthony was weeding out those who weren’t as suggestible.  Those who were, especially Mike, put on an entertaining show.

There was one guy named Dave who was told that every time he heard his name, he would get an erection and would want to hide it.  Another guy would feel like his ass was on fire and rub it along the stage to put it out whenever Johnny Cash’s ‘Ring of Fire’ was played.  Anthony made the suggestion to the group that when he turned around, he would be naked from the waist down and well hung.  When he did turn, everyone had a shocked look on his face and Mike turned to the guy sitting next to him and held his hands about two feet apart with a look of awe on his face.

Earlier in the show, Anthony gave the suggestion to one woman she could only remember her name after she sang ‘Happy Birthday’ to herself.  He then introduced himself to the other volunteers on stage.  He approached Mike and asked him his name.  Mike appeared out of it and then looked up to Anthony and asked, “What?”  I don’t think Mike was hypnotized, but he seemed to accept the suggestion that was given to the woman.  Mike eventually gave his name and Anthony went down the row until he reached the woman, who then sang ‘Happy Birthday.’  He tried to get her to do it again, but I don’t think the suggestion stuck.

As the show was winding down, it got a little weird.  To protect the names of the innocent, I won’t get into much detail on some things.  I’ll just say there were porn movie auditions with a folding chair as the other actor.  What I do want to share is another group suggestion where everyone was told they had a phallus on their foreheads and they would use it on the person in front of them.  Anthony then had each person line up in a train that looked like a scene from “Human Centipede,” but more disturbing.  Anthony wrapped up the show with the suggestion that when he shook each person’s hand, he would have the best orgasm in his life.  I learned more about my brother that night than I ever wanted.

The ignominy didn’t end there.  Once out of the theatre I made a beeline to the bathroom where I saw a couple people from the show.  As I was leaving, Rob pointed to someone who was also leaving and told Mike, “that’s the guy you were humping.”  Mike cast his eyes upward as if pleading to God to spare him any more shame.  As we were having a laugh at his antics, another couple came by and asked Mike if he remembered any of it.  He said he didn’t.  They confirmed much of what Rob and I told him he did.  Mike made another prayer, actually calling for God by name.  That only reminded me of how the show ended.

Once that was done, we had a repeat performance of the insane monkey dash back to New York, New York.  Like before, I collected an assortment of inappropriate materials (which seemed tame compared to the performance we just witnessed) and threw them away in the casino.  We stopped at a small pizza shop just outside Coyote Ugly for a quick slice to get some food in our systems.  We hadn’t had anything to eat since lunch.  The pizza was the best I ever tasted, but it sat in my stomach like a lead ball. 

We eased passed the line and the bouncer and found an empty spot by the punching bag machine.  I’m not sure who got the next round of vodka Red Bull, but once I had it in hand, I couldn’t drink it.  I put it on the shelf behind me thinking I would have it later.  Mike and Rob found a spot near the stage while I stayed on the periphery.  The music was getting too loud for me and I had trouble keeping my head up.  I tried a couple sips of my drink in hopes it would energize me, but once I did I knew if I finished it, I would throw up.  I put it back on the shelf, literally and figuratively.  I stayed for as long as I could, but I wasn’t feeling well, so I left without telling Mike and Rob.

I remember a swaying stumble back to the Monte Carlo where every sound was too loud and every light was too bright.  I hurried through the casino desperately needing quiet, darkness, and a toilet.  I didn’t get sick, but I had an urgent need to piss.  Once back in the room, I took care of business and collapsed in bed, still wearing my clothes.  Before falling asleep, I set my alarm for 5a since Mike had an early flight and we were advised to get to the airport early.  Rob had texted me in the early morning to see if I was in the room, but I didn’t wake up until I heard them come in.  Mike realized he had lost his glasses and went back to find them.  Of course, he had no luck.

We got about three hours of sleep when the alarm went off.  Fortunately, we had done some preliminary packing beforehand, so there wasn’t much more we needed to do.  We stayed in last night’s clothes and went downstairs to check-out.  There was a small charge remaining, which Rob and I split.  I also grabbed a breakfast bar and a Gatorade to try and settle my stomach.  I could drink the Gatorade, but thinking about eating the breakfast bar made me nauseous.

We waited outside for the shuttle at the back of the casino.  The weather was very windy and a bit chilly, but it was a good tonic to the hangover I was feeling.  I took stock of my various body ailments.  Of course, I was tired and woozy, but I also had a number of unexplained aches and bruises.  The knuckles on the last two fingers of my right hand looked a little swollen, and I think it might have been from the punching bag at Coyote Ugly.  I knew I was soft, but not this much.  After a prolonged wait, the shuttle arrived and we climbed on board.  The trip to the airport took forever and I thought for sure I would need to ask the driver to pull over so I could hurl, but I held it together.  Mike’s terminal was the first and we said quick goodbyes. 

I was next and I thanked Rob for putting the trip together.  I tipped the driver a fiver and threw away my breakfast bar once in the airport.  I had plenty of time before my flight, so I took my time checking in and getting to my gate, actually resting in a chair by the ticketing kiosks.  I wanted to make sure I was well enough to wait in line at security.  Once at my gate, I figured I should brave eating something and wash it down with a Diet Coke.  I find that’s the best in clearing out my dry mouth.  I slept through most of the flight and felt a little more refreshed when I was back in Minnesota.  I was dying for a shower and a long nap.  This was the Sunday before Memorial Day and The Wife had taken a trip to see family in Wisconsin, so it was just be me and the dogs at home.  I got my car out of hock at the Minneapolis airport for a pretty hefty fee and finally made it home.

While I was waiting at McCarran airport in Vegas, Rob and I had traded texts.

Rob: Jeezus . . . I’m surprised I am even functioning right now.  How many red bulls/vodka did we have? 

Me:  I had at least 4.  I thought for sure I was going to puke.  Now I just have dry mouth. 

Rob:  Wow . . . we must’ve had twice that.  What a night.  Talk about saving the best for last. 

Me:  Yeah.  I’m feeling regret that we’re leaving.  And that I lost so much money!  But a lot of it was well spent.

And that pretty much sums up a Vegas experience:  bittersweet wonderment and nausea mixed with a little pride.  When can we go again?!

Day Four (Part 2) Expenses

Check-out Monte Carlo - $37.22

Breakfast bar and Gatorade - $4.09

Tip to shuttle driver - $5.00

Snacks at airport - $6.53

Delta check bag fee - $25.00

Minneapolis Parking Fee - $86.00

*

Day Four (Part 2) Total:  $163.84

Running Total:  $1,681.00