Roadtrippin' with my favorite allies
Las Vegas Travel Blog› entry 1 of 4 › view all entries
March 24th, 2007 – by: dannydickman
The 9 hour drive was non-descript. The sights were mainly desert, sand, and shrubbery. Nothing too exciting there. The time was spent trying to decide which of three we'd marry, live with, and cast off the boat (a particularly tough one was Jessica Biel, Amanda Bynes, and Jessica Alba). We also had a kick trying to figure out the most outlanding thing we could do with a 2-bit Vegas hooker. Naturally, I can't even begin to put down in writing some of the brainstorming ideas we came up with.
As we drove into Vegas, I couldn't help but be amazed at the sheer opulence and craziness of this city. You hear it said all the time, but the amount of money poured into this city to make it pristine for tourists is amazing. Everything is clean, detailed, and catered to fulfill every tourist's dream. And boy, were there tourists. The Strip was lined with every possible sort of tourists you could imagine: frat boys from Noo Yawk, older couples on their second honeymoon, and girls on a spring break trip.
We're staying at the Embassy Suites for $40 a night (and there's four of us). It's a mile east of the Strip, but we're close to UNLV action and literally right next door from the Hard Rock Hotel, so there's no shortage of cool shit to do.
We found to our chagrin that the hotel was populated by millions of skinny 16 and 17-year-old high school cheerleaders out on a competition. Great. A couple of clicks on the computer verified that the legal age of consent in Nevada was 16, but we figured it was a bad idea waiting to happen, so we focused on their hot moms instead.
We bought $50 in alcohol to last us through the week (in the room), and we've already rampaged through a quarter of it already. Oh well. Open container laws here in Vegas are very lax, so we're just rollin' with it.
After a couple of calls, we found out it was Kevin Federline's birthday party at Pure, Hugh Heffner's birthday part at Bally's, and a steep cover basically anywhere we wanted to go on a Saturday night out in Vegas. We dressed up nice in slacks and dress shirts, walked down to the (female) concierge, and proceeded to shmooze our way into 4 free passes to some clubs on the Strip. Hell, when you have 4 fit well-dressed guys hitting on you, of course you're gonna give out free shit. It's a natural reaction.
We tore it up on the Strip, laying waste to countless denizens and rampaging through the casinos. Turned out Tangerine (Treasure Island) was our favorite, and met some nice girls from France who I'll probably meet later in the summer when I stop by for 5 days in Paris.
We were drunk starting from about 5pm to about 1am straight. And we didn't wake up in a prison cell, which is always nice. And there was a girl from Boise sleeping on our floor.
What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, right?
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