Every trip to Vegas is a unique experience, full of strange encounters, uncomfortable situations, and, of course, life lessons.  Here’s what we discovered on our most recent trip to Sin City…

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We rarely let slot machines siphon money out of our pocket, but occasionally nerdiness gets the best of us.  We didn’t succumb to the slots with alluring and totally descriptive titles like “Triple Double Wild Cherry Deluxe With Cheese”.  Instead, we played a Jeopardy! slot.  No intelligence involved.

After losing a few bucks, we switched to the always tempting Deal or No Deal slot.  As usual, greediness led to irrational decision making, and a play that cost $7 or $8 netted a briefcase with only 20 cents inside.  But wait — two women offer double or nothing, and the prospect of a whopping 40 cents was too great to turn down.

The first time we went double or nothing, we chose the blonde girl… and lost.  The next time we went double or nothing (this time on a 10 cent victory), we chose the blonde again… and lost again.  When it came time for round three, with a whopping 50 cents on the line, the woman next to us said, “Pick the black girl. She always wins.”  She was right, and a whole dollar was ours.  You really do meet the wisest people in casinos.

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During our wanderings off The Strip, we passed a strip club called The Library.  As the name suggests, the strippers are dressed as sexy librarians.  I’m trying to picture it and it seems like it should be hot… but I don’t recall going to my local library and seeing an attractive librarian.  Ever.

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The section of The Strip between The Stratosphere and downtown is only a few miles, but I imagine the majority of crime in Vegas is concentrated in this small section.  We saw a guy being put on a stretcher on one street, and a guy getting arrested on the next corner.  And this was during daylight hours!  Imagine what happens when darkness falls.

There’s really nothing to see on this section of road.  It’s lined with dumpy wedding chapels, shady strip clubs, themed motels, ethnic food shops, pawn shops, abandoned shops, and, of all things, a hostel.

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Speaking of scary and Stratosphere, you couldn’t pay me to go on swing that hangs over the edge at a height of 900 feet.

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Bonanza Gifts claims to be the largest gift shop in the world, and I believe ‘em.  However, I’m not sure how many people are in the market for such thoughtful gifts as a 10-gallon Styrofoam cowboy hat…

…rubber horse masks…

…bacon lunch pails and gummy bacon…

…devices that turn food into activities…

…and glasses with a penis nose.

Now when someone calls me a dickface, they're being observant instead of insulting.

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I want to say Jackie is a kind soul, but I wonder if she’s just a sucker.  She always gives money to solicitors and daringly approaches homeless people to give them money in exchange for petting their dog.  Disregard that some of these people appear suspicious and possibly even armed.

We’re sitting in her car in a rather dark parking lot trying to figure out where to get a pina colada when this lady with missing teeth, patchy hair and a set of crazy eyes that would strike fear into a bear rolls up next to the car on her bike.  Jackie, probably thinking this person is a purveyor of good advice, opens the window without hesitation… on my side of the car.

As soon as the window lowers, the woman, clearly about to come down from a 72-hour acid trip, launches into this totally nonsensical stream of consciousness where she begs us for $6.98 exactly so she can buy a McDonald’s value meal because she’s hungry… but she’s not on crack or drugs or anything… and she thinks we’d have the money even though she’s not checking out our wallets or car or anything… but she needs to get the money to get the McDonald’s value meal because she needs it.

I’ve never heard of a McDonald’s value meal costing $6.98.  That’s the opposite of value.  And I’m not sure how she went from her needing to eat to some mystery male character needing to eat, but I’m pretty sure “McDonald’s value meal” was code for “buy more acid.”

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I don’t have to tell you that Vegas oozes sexuality, but it seems to get more impressive by the year.

As we were about to walk into The Mirage to get something to eat, three busty women walk off the cover of a magazine and out of the hotel wearing incredibly flashy, blinged out bikinis — bright gold, bejeweled — ass hanging out, dragging their luggage to the parking garage.

A few hours later, we pull into the parking garage at THEhotel and there’s another incredibly gorgeous model-type sitting at the valet waiting for her car with luggage in hand… wearing only a tiny black bikini that didn’t leave much to the imagination.

Where are these people going in bikinis?

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We met up with one of my good friends from high school and his wife in search of unnecessarily large tubes of adult beverage.  Walk The Strip for five minutes and you’re bound to see people sucking down 60 ounces of daiquiri or margarita from a tube that looks like a vital part of a truck engine.

As we waited for our pina coladas — don’t ask about the pina colada obsession on this trip, just accept that Vegas makes strange requests on your taste buds — I noticed that someone left a very generous tip for the bartender in her tip jar…

That amount of alcohol seems like a good idea when you first get it.  Even the M&Ms agree.

Eventually the combination of alcohol and a digital camera becomes dangerous, especially after you realize that a long tube of pina colada looks like a phallic symbol (pictures omitted as a courtesy to my future employers).  I feel bad for the foreign tourists who will go home, review their pictures, and see us in the background doing stuff like this…

Confucius say: Dragon boogers bring good luck.

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After guzzling down that hideously sour, foamy pina colada, my friend Jeff said, with absolute authority: “We’re going into the Bellagio to play games.  I don’t care what.  We – will – win.”  We lost.

Vegas motto:  If you win, you win.  If you lose, you break even.

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At about 3 in the morning, I walk into the men’s room at Hard Rock and this guy runs into the stall next to me and exclaims: “OH YEAH!  OH!  OH YES!  Wow.  A piss can only feel that good in Vegas.  I’d pay a prostitute to make me feel that good again.”

He was an Englishman so at least it sounded refined.

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Jackie and I went to get haircuts at this popular place off The Strip and there was this loud girl across the salon going on a tirade about some family dispute.  I couldn’t keep up with what she was saying as she kept jumping from topic to topic, but at one point she uttered the strangest line I’ve ever heard:

“They can’t judge us for liking tomatoes, even if they are illegal.”

Let that marinate for a minute.  Try to process that.  I know it’s out of context, but is there any conversation where that statement can be accepted in context?

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Vegas is not a place to visit if you have insecurities.  The 18 – 25 crowd all look like Abercrombie & Fitch models.  On the weekend, the city is a veritable buffet of eye candy.

Which makes it all the more depressing when we work our asses off at the gym to barely see improvement and these people can chow down burgers and nachos and alcoholic drinks all day and somehow lose weight.

Sahara: The 2-Star Slum

The only reason we stayed at the Sahara for two nights was because it was pretty cheap compared to the outrageous Memorial Weekend prices at some of the nicer places (we’re talking $300 plus).  The place is pretty much a dump.  We call it “The Motel 5″ because equating it to Motel 6 would just be disrespectful to Motel 6.

Not a raging Vegas pool party.

It’s one of those old school Vegas hotels that doesn’t try to improve and even prides itself on its clientele of WWE and NASCAR fans.  It’s also one of those places that likely attracts unsavory activity.

Case in point: I’m pretty sure our room was the scene of a vicious knife fight.  There were rips in the carpet and a suspicious dark stain under a chair, likely where a victim of a drug deal gone awry was bludgeoned.

But I guess all the luxurious amenities of the room make up for it being a crime scene.  Take, for instance, the TV.  If we tried to change the volume in any direction, it would automatically spike to the max.  Once there, it couldn’t be turned down.  But volume doesn’t matter when you only have a handful of fuzzy stations.  The broken speaker was a marvelous aesthetic choice as well.

We also especially enjoyed the shower.  I prefer a shower head that slowly drips water while most of the water gushes out of the bath faucet, creating a shower/bath hybrid experience that’s second to none.

After two blissful nights at the Sahara, we moved to Mandalay Bay’s all-suite THEhotel.  More on that room in a later post.

Observations From The I-15

There is always a bevy of interesting sights on a long distance drive, as our trip up the I-5 for the Olympics would indicate.  The drive along the I-15 from L.A. to Vegas packs just as much strangeness in a shorter drive.  Here are a few observations…

–To get to the I-15, L.A. drivers have to take the 91 Freeway.  Luckily we missed this huge accident by mere minutes.

–We passed a white van with Jurassic Park logos on the doors.  I don’t remember that particular vehicle making an appearance in Jurassic Park, which begs the question: why put Jurassic Park logos on a van?

–The phone number for this Greyhound bus is 1-800-SAFE-BUS.  Notice how it appears as if it’s going to tip.

–What’s more disturbing: a cattle cargo truck full of animals… or an empty one?

–The last ten miles before you reach Vegas is an assault of billboards advertising buffets and nightclubs.  The first ten miles after you leave Vegas is an assault of billboards advertising weight loss plans and companies that will fight your DUI.

–I like reading license plates on the drive.  It make it less boring.  I particularly liked this one…

–This is cheating a little since it’s technically a few miles off the I-15, but if you recall our list of 15 Cool Sights To See On The Drive To Vegas, you can’t pass through Barstow without a stop at Del Taco.  Naturally we made our usual stop at the original Del Taco, but it was something we passed on the surface streets that really got our attention this time. On nearly every block, we saw a guy on the sidewalk waving a sign that directs drivers to cheap food or car insurance discounts.  But the strangest sign guy had to be the afroed guy in a nurse uniform, dancing and signing, waving a sign that read: “Urgent Care This Way”.  Does urgent medical attention really necessitate song and dance?

(*On a side note, after a visit to urgent care a few months ago, I got a letter in the mail that read: “Thank you for patronage.  We look forward to seeing you again soon.”  Well I don’t!  I had to get two painful shots in the butt.  Thanks for the well wishes.)

–Del Taco isn’t the classiest dining experience, but I can endure sights like this to indulge in a delicious half-pound bean and cheese burrito with red sauce…

–Most of the ride to Vegas consists or large expanses of wide open dessert, which makes this especially confusing.  About 30 minutes outside Vegas, there’s a skydive company that put its landing strip in the most inappropriately dangerous place possible: adjacent to a freeway and huge power lines.

Now we know why it’s called Extreme Skydiving.  You have to be extremely crazy to not only risk death by jumping out of an airplane, but having to combat furious desert winds and dangerous obstacles such as sailing over power lines and landing on a thin strip of land unwisely placed directly next to a highly trafficked freeway.

What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas… until you wind up in the news.