Making my way westbound today. Heading out to that oasis in the desert. The place where dreams and bank accounts are grown and shattered (hopefully the former for me).
That's right baby, I am headed to Vegas. That wonderland where all my gambling desires are fulfilled. A smaller crew is headed there than in year's past, but we'll somehow survive. Normally this trip is done over MLK weekend with all my buddies from fantasy football, but because of the inauguration of the savior, prices were too expensive to leave DC that weekend.
So we pushed the date back to coincide with the opening of the NCAA Tournament. Sure, I did think I would be getting to see UK play instead of having to watch them in the fucking NIT last night, but whatever. I will get my kicks rolling 6s and 8s at the craps tables, sprinkling in the occasional 9 (neuf!) in honor of Kelly and our epic roll in Montreal with Fat Tony.
It's always funny talking to friends about Vegas, because it always comes down to two camps. 1) My guy friends who are pissed at me for going and watching college hoops from 9 a.m. to 9 p.m. without a break at the sportsbooks; and 2) The female friends who wonder where I am eating and whether I will see the sun or hang out at the pool. Ummm, no pool (there is plenty of gambling to be done), no sun (who goes outside in Vegas when there is NONSTOP tournament hoops on (which includes more gambling), and as far as the eating goes we will have our ceremonial high-end meal (big bloated dinner at Del Frisco's) while checking scores and heading back down to Old Vegas and the Hard Rock for more ... well ... gambling. You get the picture.
So if you need me, you know where I will be. Here or here. Nowhere else.
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