I know, I know…another Vegas story…again! I can’t help myself. It’s as addicting as gambling, drinking, or smoking. It’s the king of addictions, my kryptonite, my Achilles heel.
This time it was during St. Patrick’s week. It was a very different scene. No big crowds and no big green street parties.
As you might know by now, I am a repeat offender of Las Vegas. Like a bad heroin habit. Recidivism at its best! You can’t cure me. It’s done on purpose. You know…willingly, voluntarily…even with those guys on the Vegas street corners, who shout at you that Vegas is a fornicating evil entity and you will die by God’s wrath for being in Vegas! I get it. But sorry street corner guys…there is no reform with me.
Over the last few decades Vegas has been my playground, my version of a debaucherous Disneyland. So debaucherous you might see Elsa from Frozen try a pole or two. Sin City is filthy enough that showering 3 times a day might seem normal.
Vegas is something I grew into. I adapted to survive it’s evil ways. But, like everyone else, I started as a novice visitor, naïve to the sinister dark lure of the town.
I to, arrived with no real direction or focus and on a tight budget. I stayed in a cheap motel room, much like a motel 6, fresh with vomit still in the rug from the previous guests!
I drank myself into a coma my first day, wasted the next 24 hours trying to recover from that, so I could do it all over again.
My amateur ways had me throwing up each morning and throwing up before I fell into unconsciousness at night. I was that guy who bought the big ass drink cup that was taller than me, drinking pure sugar with a splash of liquor for 40 bucks, trying to cram the stupid cup into my suitcase upon departure.
Like anything else in life, I learned a few lessons about Vegas. I became one with the city navigating its rough terrain. I worked my way to a better status than “novice” as the years went by.
Now days, I’ve become more like the group tour guide for some of my wayward friends. Each friend destroyed by the power of Vegas. It’s entertaining to watch my friends not heed the warnings of over doing Vegas the first night. And where every night, becomes an amazing night, that none of them ever remember.
Some of my friends could not handle Vegas and had to fly home the next day! Other friends survived, but never came back. And then, those so few friends of mine, the elite, came back for more and more!
Always fun in Las Vegas!
Always!!