Viva Las Vegas!

Nope, not NYC. Guess again?

Matt, Jamie and I were standing up on the outside deck of the Moon club in Las Vegas, which itself is atop one of the two Palms casino resort towers. It was two in the morning and the place was still packed. We were sipping our hideously overpriced drinks and looking down at the view, which can only be described as spectacular. I had two thoughts: Why had I been so stupid as to forget my camera; and was this what the original Mafia bosses envisioned back in the 1930’s?

Vegas is a trip. It’s unreal. It’s everything you’ve heard that it is and more. It’s a wild, crazy, round-the-clock party town. You can spend a ton of money here, even if you don’t’ gamble. And apparently, many people do.

We’re here for Matt’s bachelor party. He’d never seen Las Vegas. He’s been go Biloxi, Mississippi and New Orleans, but they just don’t compare to Vegas. Nothing does. Matt has an itinerary of sorts – things he wants to do while we’re here. Most of them are straightforward, but…one or two will cause us to invoke the (in)famous and brilliant marketing slogan about the city, of which I need not remind you.

Now, enlisting my help for this endeavor was risky. I’m not much of a gambler, I’m not much of a drinker/partier anymore, nor am I a frequenter of…err, “gentlemen’s” clubs. I can still hang with the young guys (it’s all in the pacing), but honestly, I’m more of a chaperone. Having me plan a wild weekend in Las Vegas is like having your dad do it. This is not good if you’re a 27 year-old guy out on his Last Big Party before submitting to the shackles of marriage. Luckily, we also brought along Jamie, who has more than adequately stepped up to the task. Jamie’s a blast.

I’ll spare you the “our story so-far” details in this post. But this is obviously only Part One. We got here Saturday afternoon; we’re leaving Tuesday. We’re having a great time, spending a ton of money. No broken bones, no bloodshed, no suicide-inducing hangovers. No hookers in the room stories. No lost-everything-at-the-tables stories. Yet. Well, we did almost get kicked off the roller-coaster at the New York-New York casino…while it was already underway if you can imagine such a thing. It’s a long (and stupid) story.

But it’ll have to wait. It’s 7:30. The boys won’t be up for a while, so I’m going to head down, grab some breakfast, and see if I can convince one of the slot machines in the casino to take some (more) money from me.