What Happens Vegas Stays in Vegas, Except...

Day One

Randall and I arrived in Vegas from Oakland at around 4:30, during rush hour on a beautiful Thursday afternoon. Friends Fred and Ed were waiting at he airport, Fred wearing a fake chaffaurs hat, holding a sign that said "Hugh G. Rection" or something like that, and Ed in a black trenchcoat, looking like Neo from the Matrix. It took us about an hour too get from the airport to our hotel, the Mandalay Bay. The traffic was horrible, even by California standards.

While the two legal reservation-holders checked in, Ed and I hid behind a pillar. I'm sure we were being watched by a camera, but we felt sneaky. Mandalay Bay is very nice, and very pricey. Being willing to share a bathroom with three other men and sleep on the floor one night makes it much more affordable.

Drinking in our suite at the Mandalay Bay:


After we had settled into the room and had a couple of beverages it was time to don our "Rat Pack" attire in preparation for a night on the town. On the elevator down we traveled with a group of 5 or 6 young women who were ready to party. They seemed to be wearing very similar outfits, but I didn't ask. They were very friendly, and in fact gave Randall the nickname "Dwindle," accompanied by the international women's hand single for limp penis. Our vacation had begun... Vegas style.

First stop was Delmonico Steakhouse at the Venitian for some extremely expensive, but delicious slabs of cow. We smoked cigars and had drinks as we waited in the bar, which seemed decadent as I'm used to smoking being outlawed in public places (not that I smoke much). By the time we were seated I was feeling kind of funny but enjoyed the meal anyway. It was a once in a lifetime experience, because there's no way in hell I'm ever going to pay that much for a steak again. Good though.

Next stop was Rum Jungle for some exotic, but not-too-tasty drinks. I don't remember the name of the drink we all had, but it tasted like PEZ dissolved in ... yes, you guessed it. Rum.

After hovering around a post, between two couches for a half hour, a small group left and we pounced on their seats. We hung out for a while watching the peeps and eating spicy dried peas, then Fred swiped an ice scoop and we left. I don't really see how Rum Jungle is one of the hottest nightspots in Vegas, but maybe I just dont' like hot nightspots.