Last night in Vegas and it was clear and warm. The scheme was to take the Duece down to the south strip and meet the kids for dinner at Hooters at 6pm. The Duece was jammed so I ended up hoofing the 3+ miles through a throbbing mob filled with illegal Mexicans trying to thrust hooker cards into my hand every ten feet. Seriously! They have pictures of the hooker with her going rate and her phone number on them. You don’t even bother to deny them with a hand gesture, you just try to not knock them over.
Got to Hooters 20 min late which is totally not like me. The place was a zoo and we got stuck in the back behind a table full of ex Serbian soccer players with loud voices, large stomachs and way too much testosterone. Really loud there and the food was crappy. Oh well, the company was great.
After dinner we went back to the kids room at the Excaliber (much nicer then mine), made drinks to go and hit the Strip. One thing I found out about Riley is that once he starts drinking he has to pee a lot, so we were getting a good look inside the resorts as we headed North.
Another very fun thing Riley and I decided to do was accept every hooker card shoved at us. What a pair we were, grabbing cards left and right while escorting the lovely Jessica wearing a hot little black dress.
There was a guy on one corner blaring Jesus stuff through a megaphone as I was telling the kids about the Congressman in trouble for twittering his crotch to a young Seattle girl. We were right next to the guy and I waited until he stopped his rant for a second and I screamed out “His last name was Weiner” which cracked up the crowd and even made megaphone guy grin.
Riley snapped a picture of me posing with a couple of hotties in shorts, which is sitting on his camera. When he gets home and sends it to me, I’ll include it here.
After watching the water and light show at the Mirage (or was it the Belagio), which was truly spectacular by the way, we got a great spot in front of the pirate show at Treasure Island. Riley said he had to pee and that he’d be right back. So, Jess and I watched the show while the crowds pressed in. After a while we started wondering were Riley was. He finally showed up after pretty much missing the show and sheepishly told us that he had gotten lost. Took a wrong turn out of the bathroom and ended up on the other side of the hotel. Glad he found us, it could have been bad since Jess’s cell phone had died and I don’t carry one.
We finally called it a night, hugged and said our goodbyes and headed back to our rooms. I’m writing this as the Greyhound rolls north towards Salt Lake City. I’ll email it when I can snag some internet, and this concludes my Notes from the Strip. Thanks for reading!