I just spent last weekend in Vegas. I’m writing this on a Wednesday so you know it was a good one. Let’s jump right in.
This trip started with some up’s and down’s. Then UP and DOWN and UP and DOWN.I’m not sure who the jackass is that thought that taking layovers was a good idea, but I guess his name his Renz.
So I had a Southwest flight destined for Denver from MSP at around noon on Thursday, which would then connect to a flight direct flight to the glorious McCarran Airport in Las Vegas. With one catch…a three hour layover in Denver.What could go wrong? I eat a bunch of food and have some of Denver’s finest ales while I wait for my next flight.
One bite into my artisanal grilled cheese sandwich I get a email from Southwest Airlines…”Your connecting flight is cancelled and you can go fuck yourself in Denver until we can get your fat ass on a plane tomorrow morning.” That’s how I perceived their email, anyway.I then proceed to abandon my layover feast and hop in a line of about 50 other people that found themselves in a similar predicament. Everyone’s pissed. While they’re all trying to get home to their loved ones and attend weddings or other important events, I’m trying to get to Vegas to slam $40 Mojito’s down my throat!
Then a very sweaty man appeared out of no where. “Is anyone going to Vegas?” You son a bitch you better believe it. I have no idea where this flight or this guy comes from but he prints me a boarding pass and I board that bad boy thinking THANK GOD!
Good Luck To Me
I would like everyone to notice the location of the tweet above…BELGRADE FUCKING MONTANA!
I had given up at this point. I guess I’ll just get drunk in Montana tonight and deal with this in the morning. But at last, another surprise. They announce that if you’re taking this connection to Las Vegas just stay on the plane and we’ll be leaving in 30 minutes or so. THANK JESUS!I was very happy that I was eventually going to make it to my destination, but I will never be taking a connecting flight again and Southwest Airlines go fuck themselves for almost forcing miss my weekend in Vegas.
At Last, We’re Here For A Weekend in Vegas & It’s Time To Party
This trip was for a buddy’s bachelor party so naturally there’s like 100 of us. We took refuge at the Venetian hotel in a few suites that were very accommodating for a group of alcoholic degenerate gamblers.
We took part in all the usual Vegas suspects. Walking the strip, drinking just a disgusting amount of alcohol, went to a fancy dinner, lost mortgage payments on blackjack. But there was one thing no of us had seem before…miniature mechanical horse racing machine.
People would assume that a group of 20 and 30 year old men’s favorite part of any weekend in Vegas would be the hot chicks, or the bad ass pool parties. Nope. I’m not gonna speak for everyone else but this bad boy here takes the cake.
Once you look past the fact that this thing is designed to steal money form you, its an awesome time. I bet on a good amount of horse races in my life but I’ve never experienced quite a rush like this. The only thing I enjoy more than building cup snakes at Saints games is putting $20 on the #5 horse for the 100th time and letting the #3 horse say fuck you as it dances across the finish line.
What Happens in Vegas, Stays In Vegas
Maybe I’m just getting old, but the old what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas doesn’t really apply anymore… Unless you’re Lancman. I don’t think anyone should be ashamed of slugging vodka in your room to avoid paying full price. Or even playing a mechanical horse racing games for 4 hours on a Saturday afternoon.
No matter what you do while you’re in Vegas, it’s just fun to be with your friends have having a hell of a time while you do it.
Even if its your friends folding you and your couch bed like a burrito and not waking up.
Great guy, better drinker. One of the better looking husky guys around.