there’s no reason for me not to move to vegas (pt 2)

(I started writing, but this got way too long, so here’s the summary of Saturday in Vegas.)

I woke up early Saturday morning. I kept trying to go back to sleep, but knowing there were hookers and porn stars (not really work safe) and casinos shaped like castles right outside my window did not make it easy. I got up, showered, and texted Bill, who was also awake.With everyone else still sleeping, we hit Starbucks for coffee before walking around through Excalibur and the Luxor [picture]. Bill is like a fountain of knowledge when it comes to Vegas, so it was awesome to get the background scoop from all the buildings around us. We eventually met up with everyone else in Mandalay Bay for brunch [picture] after wandering around the casino area for a while [picture]. Mandalay Bay was also where the awards show for porn stars was being held later that night.

Brunch, as everything we had to eat in Vegas, was awesome. After making our way through the pairs of fake boobs that were everywhere, we split into two cabs and headed down to Fremont Street [picture]. Our main objective? The Blackjack tables that we heard so much about on We got there in a hurry since we did not want to wait the rush that was incoming.

The six of us found a $5 table at Binion’s with a dealer that was old enough to someone’s grandpa. For the next three hours, we lost the most part of the money we’d thrown on the table And our dealer, whose name we found out was Robert Milligan, made us enjoy every single bit of it. Robert’s a big reason we want to back next year.

From Matt: Robert was an old-school Las Vegas-ite, straight out of central casting, who had a gnarled cane and who quit drinking after he tried to fry an egg one night and missed the pan and who was at least 1000% Irish and who had a story for every single possible occasion.

From Jenni: Robert alternated between berating us and telling jokes (some of which he would forget partway through) for the next three hours, with regular 20-minute breaks during which we missed him a LOT. Our favorite moment was when he started talking about buying nickel and dime bags, then tried to explain what they were to his pit boss, who had no idea. He said that it was heroin, as opposed to cocaine, which one buys in rocks. Also, he remembered the days when one could walk down Fremont Street counting a handful of cash; nowadays, you walk down a few blocks holding a twenty, and you’re bound to get shot.

We dropped by the Golden Nugget before we left Fremont Street, and then it was two cabs back to our hotel where we split into thirds. 1/3 of us took a “nap”, 1/3 played craps, and Katie and I met up with our ol’ friends the nickel and penny slot machines.

Dressed in our fancy pants, we met up in The Champagne Room (a.k.a. Jenni and Matt’s room) to down another bottle of champagne before hopping in – you guessed it – our limo. We proceeded to drink another bottle of champagne (straight from the bottle) and talk our blue-tooth-headset-wearing limo driver into driving us to the Welcome to Las Vegas sign [picture]. He obliged our request to take a group photo, too [picture].

Clint, our driver, drove around for a while and timed our arrival at The Venetian for our 9 pm reservation perfectly [picture]. We found Pinot Brasseire (what does that mean? Wine bra?) and proceeded to have a super fantastic dinner. Matt filled out the comment card appropriately [picture] and I met my future husband there. He was dressed in a leisure suit with pants so tight I could read the label on his wallet. We hadn’t been there for 10 minutes before this guy stumbled into the kitchen still holding his drink to try to find a place to pee. Hi, not my wine, sir, thanks.

A food coma didn’t stop us from spending a short time in the Venetian’s casino, where I witnessed the beauty of Vegas – a girl on her knees in front of the ATM machine sobbing. We stood in a cab line for a long time, before cabbing it back to the area near our hotel. The cabs dropped us off at MGM Grand, where we eventually ran into a bar called Rouge. A few hours and several bad idea drinks later [picture], we won Vegas. How did we win? We closed down the bar. How else would you win Vegas?

Everyone else went up to the rooms, but I wasn’t ready to go to bed. I wanted to find a $5 blackjack table, but they were all full, so I opted for the nickel slots, where I pretty much won back everything I’d lost earlier in the day. Yeah, I was amused, too.

I had to throw on the iPod to get to sleep, but I think I finally crashed sometime before 4:30 Vegas time.


What's up?