One Night in Vegas

 

Las Vegas, the motto behind the city is “What happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas.” The underlying message of that statement is tell your wife you are in Boston for work, go to Vegas gamble away the mortgage and sex it up with an underage cocktail waitress. The city is an adult playground. Look at the differences for a young aspiring woman entrepreneur in Pittsburgh compared to Vegas.  A hooker in Pittsburgh gets arrested for hand-jobs on Liberty Ave; a hooker in Vegas gets a marketing team of Mexicans standing on a corner handing out their business cards. Flick-Flick-Flick! Welcome to the Party. Welcome to Vegas!

*Side Note

Jaywalking is very frowned upon in Vegas. You can walk around the streets hammered out of your cranium but if you step outside of set designated walking lane you will get a fine. Be careful.

Back on Track

Our day starts out atop the Venetian, Frank, Andres, and I were hanging out at Tao Beach. Tao Beach sits on top of the nightclub Tao; during the day the pool is set up with cabanas, VIP bottle service, a DJ, and European style tanning. First things first, European style tanning equals awesome. Have you ever been at a pool or beach and thought, whoa that girl is very hot and I want to see her naked? I guess Tao Beach is like a genie that automatically answers your wishes before they are even wished, like a psychic genie. I rounded the corner as we walked in and without even wishing or asking, titties were staring right at me. What is even more amazing to me is the concept of a day style club party at a pool. I loved every minute of it. The music was bump’n, people were party’n naked, and 105 degrees and sunny does not make for a bad day at the pool. At that point, life couldn’t get any better.

The host at the entrance of Tao Beach sets us up with a couch back near the bar. Ironic that we were by the bar because Vegas drink prices can suck my furry beanbag, I will not pay $20 for a mid-shelf Vodka Sprite at 2pm in the afternoon, I was rocking a flask. Its Vegas, I got to save my loot for the roulette tables.

Tao Beach itself is surprisingly not that big of a place. Cabanas and couches line the outer wall on all sides of and chairs for tanning fill the middle section. There is only two things to do at Tao Beach, get drunk and lay out or get drunk, hop in the pool, and throw beach balls back and forth while hitting on girls. Here I am, in a day about to turn 24 and I’m playing with beach balls in a pool having the time of my life. Thank you alcohol.

After a day of poolside drunken erotic fun it was time to get ready for the night. We stayed at the Hard Rock hotel that was about a mile off the Vegas strip. Our reason for the stay, the pool is amazing and I also wanted to put $5 down on the same exact Roulette table that Vince does on the episode of Entourage when they got to Vegas. I did not hit which in turn only meant that I was not going to win at all during my stay in Vegas.

Pre-gaming is vital in Vegas, drink prices suck, like mentioned before, and it will take you about $70 just to catch a buzz in a Vegas nightclub.  The plan for the night was to link up with Tony and C-Walk and hit up Tao Nightclub. The two of them arrived in Vegas while we spent our afternoon with boobies in a pool; they were staying at the Tropicana.  

*Side Note

If you have a big group going to Vegas it’s always smart to split everyone up in different hotels or stay at 2 or more different spots while out there. That way you can use the pools at the nicer hotels. On the other hand, you can be like my friend Bud, drive up from LA over night, sit by the elevators and wait for an Asian family who is checking out at the MGM Grand and grab a room key off of them for the pool access.

Back on Track

Of course Tony and C Walk were running late, so the three of us decided to go wait in line for Tao. You would have thought that Justin Timberlake was blowing the Perez Hilton in the club. The line was like Times Square during an episode of TRL. While contemplating our decisions, a friendly gentleman hands us passes for Jet Nightclub which is right across the street, fuck it why not. A quick text to Tony & CWalk, “Meet us at the Mirage.”

Black ropes separate the crowd from the bouncers in front of Jet Nightclub.  The ropes make a 40 ft. square in front of the doors to so the Secret Service wannabe bouncers can choose the crowd at their discretion.  Andres leaves for a piss break and upon his return some how now processes a bottle of Captain. The crowd around the ropes seems to grow as our night progresses deeper into “The Drunk.”  We make friends with the people around us by shoving straight Captain down their throat. Strangers will really warm up to you when given free liquor. Tip for the kids reading this story who are forced to move to a new school, show up with a bottle the first day of class and hand out free shots in the cafeteria.

Finally after finishing off the Captain the bouncer comes over to us, he asks if we have any girls with us and a before we even said anything I knew he sensed the problem. The bouncers at the clubs are supposed to let in a 2 to 1 girl to guy ratio and we were three guys who just made friends with a bunch of other guys in line. It was early in the night and at that point there was only guys in line. The bouncer avoided the inevitable drunken argument and let us in anyways.  

C Walk and Tony met us inside the club, Operation: Do the Drunk was about to commence. I was not impressed with Jet Nightclub personally, I sat at the bar ordering drinks and just about every VIP host in the club came up, handed me a business cards, and gave me the same scripted sales pitch about getting a bottle. VIP at the other clubs for the most part are sold out but here at Jet there is an entire team of dedicated bottle slanging employees offering deals for me to get VIP. The rest of our short stay at Jet I talked to a club promoter out of Orlando we happened to meet. The two of us shared tips and ideas about each other’s businesses but the fellow was a little hard to understand, the music was loud, I was drunk, and this kid was possibly speaking straight Spanish. All I really know is el biblioteca.

Tony decides to leave without us, I think he was sick or something but he probably used that as an excuse so he could go spend some quality time with a hooker.  So it is now down to C Walk, Frank, Andres, and I. Leaving the Mirage we aimlessly set out for the Vegas Strip letting the Drunk take us to where we needed to be. That is exactly what happened, standing next to a limo was and interesting French gentleman. He spoke like Jean Reno as Leon in the Professional and gave us a deal we could not refuse.

Leon: “You guys want free ride in the limo?”

Me: “Whats the catch?”

Leon: “No catch, No catch, free ride in limo to the Strip Club”

Enough was said, all of us with out saying a word agreed and advanced towards the limo door. Andres decided to throw a curve ball at us; we only met him in the Spring and did not know too much about him.  

To describe Andres in a nutshell he is a hyper Guatemalan, who drinks dark liquor like a fraternity house drinks beer, and is a marine. The kid is pretty intense. Watch Scarface in Fast Forward and that is Andres. I was amazed the first time he spoke Spanish, I’m American, I know one language so when I find out a friend of mine is bi-lingual, I am amazed. While walking around the hotel I would ask him what all of the maids were talking about, one conversation actually went like this.

Me: Andres, what are those maids talking about?

Andres: (Listens) Well you see the lady maid needs some towels and the guy said he would go get them.

Back on Track

Why we got so thrown off was Andres busts out French and starts talking to the limo driver. All I am thinking is Holy F, our new found friend is a secret agent. They blabber words back and forth, the three of us in the limo sit silent not knowing how to react. Andres leans in the car and reiterates what the driver had already told us, to him, hearing it in French really legitimized this venture.  So we set off for the strip club.

Any time you are in a limo and drunk, it is fun.  The trip takes about 15 minutes from the Mirage to the Strip Club. We pull up and Leon walks us inside, we pay a cover but also get two free drinks so it equaled out.  The four of us grab our drinks, sit down, and let the rest of our night happen.

*Side Note

I later found out that the limo driver gets paid for each one of us he brings to the strip club. The cover we pay goes right into his pocket so if you ever take a free limo ride in Vegas, do not tip the driver.

Back on Track

The room was pretty large and open, a bar sat on the back wall and a stage shaped like a + sign sat in the middle. There was another room blocked off by a large red curtain that we noticed when walking into the club. Comfortable little couch chairs surrounded the stage so we found a spot and set up camp. I may have forgot to mention that Andres loves the female, if you get him drunk enough and tell him that the microwave said he was cute, he would figure out a way to get on it. It was no wonder that within minutes of being in the club, Andres went hunting.

Within minutes of us sitting down we had girls on our laps. Strippers are financial vampires, although seductive, they will suck the life out of your wallet and leave you with nothing. Frank, C Walk, and I ignore them and just blabber on about drunken nonsense. C Walk drifts away from the conversation and finds himself lost in a deep conversation with the stripper on his lap. The two gaze deep into each others eyes and look like a nervous couple at a 7^th grade dance. Frank and I bullshit while strippers try to dry hump our awesome man spots. I make it very well known that I do not tip strippers or pay strippers for anything, I just do not do it. That theory does not change, even for Vegas.

After a few songs of this SlamPig rubbing against my crotch, she turns to me.

SlamPig “Twenty Dollars”

Pat “That’s nice”

SlamPig “No, you owe me $20”

Pat “Fuck off stripper, u sat on my lap, I did not ask you to do that, if I was going to pay for a stripper to sit on my lap I would have picked that hot Asian one, not you”

SlamPig “Fuck you, I am getting a bouncer”

Pat “Yes get him, because you owe ME twenty dollars”

The conversation was like in Deuce Bigalow when he demands the hooker for $5. She of course did not get a bouncer because she was full of shit and it seemed that Frank had a similar conversation with the girl that was on his lap. C Walk was still lost in puppy dog stripper love and Andres was still aimlessly exploring the club, his whereabouts were unknown. The Drunk pee was coming upon me so I found the energy to pull myself together and saunter my way towards the gentleman’s room, I then hear Andres.

Andres “Mr. Hanavan! Mr. Hanavan! Tell this bitch I am not paying her!

Stripper “Your friend owes me $100!”

Andres “Fuck you bitch, I don’t owe you shit! Mr. Hanavan get this bitch away from me”

Stripper “Your friend is gone, I’m getting a bouncer”

She stands up to grab a bouncer and I take Andres by the arm and lead him into the bathroom. The kid can drink but there is a breaking point for any human and Andres has met and exceeded his point. Due to my previous encounter with SlamPig I now knew this SlamPig was also full of shit and trying to scam him. I put him into a bathroom stall, sat him on a toilet and tell him to hide there until things settle down outside. The entire way to the bathroom he explains to me how the stripper was a bitch and he isn’t giving her shit. I leave him there and return to my chair. Upon my return I tell Frank and C Walk what happened with Andres not even noticing that C Walks love was still perched on his lap. This is when I noticed, she wasn’t even dancing on his pee pee, this stripper genuinely was into C Walk.

C Walk actually met a stripper who liked him, I even called her out on it and she did not disagree.  She was a sweet girl, told us the whole “Why I became a Stripper” story and about her other jobs she works to support her kids. Usually I would tell a stripper to fuck off with a story like that but she was not a vulcher out for the money in our pockets, she was just telling us what was up because I was interrogating.  C Walk’s stripper gets called on stage and we are excited to see her get naked, she was cute and we got to know her over the past hour of talking; HOLY SHIT I FORGOT ABOUT ANDRES!

I stood up and ran into the bathroom to check and see if he was still there. The night was getting late and we would have to leave soon. I go back to the stall and peek through the crack to see if he is still there, he is. Andres was sitting on the toilet passed out using the toilet paper dispenser as armrest and his arm as a pillow. I figured after an hour or so of him being there fifteen more minutes wont hurt. With a sigh of relief I walk back out to where we are sitting and tell Frank and C Walk we probably have to leave soon. C Walks stripper is not done being naked on stage yet so we wait. Fifteen to twenty minutes later we compose ourselves and get ready to leave. I walk back into the bathroom to grab Andres. (Insert thoughts on what you think I come to find.)

Frantically running out of the bathroom I run up to C Walk and Frank.

Me “Where the fuck is Andres!?”

Frank “You said you threw him into the bathroom stall!”

C Walk “I haven’t seen him all night”

The search for Andres starts. I run into the bathroom and ask the attendant if he saw a little drunk Guatemalan stumble out of a stall, he looks at me as if I am crazy. We ask the bartenders, bouncers, the girls at the front door, we check the empty room to see if he is passed out there, nothing. You got to be weary in Vegas, u never know who feels like being Old School and proving a point. Fear sets in and we are now under the impression that the bouncers took him out and beat the shit out of him. As much as we searched the club for him we could still not find Andres. The kid somehow like a ninja disappeared being seen by no one.

We searched as long as we could but he never turned up and we had to leave. Obviously our calls were going unanswered so god only knows where his phone is. We get in a taxi and head home just hoping that somehow he will be there when we get back. Of course upon our return, Andres was still M.I.A.

The next morning when I wake up I look at the other bed and see Andres, at this point he is dead to the world and I wait for him to wake up so I can hear what happened.

Lets put on the Andres goggles.

Apparently after I checked on Andres he woke up. His concept of time was out the window and he thought that the heat was coming down on him because of SlamPig #2’s antics. Without even trying to contact the three of us he runs outside and hails a cab. To this day he has no idea where the cab dropped him off at or where he told the driver to go. He apparently hit the roulette tables at some casino and was up a couple hundred.

Two girls must have smelled his inebriation also noticing the amount of chips he was carrying because they started hitting on him. Andres, like mentioned before, is a lover of females so he fed into their lies. They all gambled together, one girl would keep his attention while the other robbed him of his winnings. The girls leave and Andres now realizes that he has been robbed so the pursuit starts.  He chases them down the street, a guy tackles him thinking that he is going to attack the girls. The martyr becomes the douche. After the short wrestle on the sidewalk the girls are gone and Andres now has no money, phone, or credit card. The walk to the Hard Rock begins.

He stumbles through the streets of Vegas asking random strangers where the Hard Rock hotel is. Aimlessly he walks not even sure how far from the hotel he is when two girls in a cab pull up. From what he described these two girls looked like Compton. They were from the south, their mouths were accented with gold grills and he was afraid that they were dirty hookers. Apparently the term southern hospitality is true, apparent non-hookers saved Andres. He explained his story to them and they paid his cab fare back to the Hard Rock. 8am, Andres shows up at our room wearing less then half of a white wife-beater, falls on the bed, and is out quicker then an AIDS patient in a triathlon.

That morning was my birthday and our trip to Vegas was only beginning.