We woke up, took in some theme store window-shopping, and gambled a bit. I was up but Dee was down. Video poker—live the dream. I found a big mother fu$#ing slot machine and swore I’d play it later. It was soooo big. Around this time I began calling Dee a “loose nickel slut” in reference to the nickel slots that peppered the casino floor. She loved it, needless to say. A short while later it was wedding time, and we had some fun dressing up. Dee was “Doll Face”, I was “Tim from accounting”, our hotel mate Steve was “Lime Ricky” (he had a green sportcoat), and Beca was “Tit lips”. Prior to this, we went to a slummy convenient store for our supplies (whisky, eyelashes, etc.). The clerks were makeuped to hell and seemed to be crusty ex- (or failed) showgirls. Depressing place. While shopping we shared stories of Vegas sightings from the previous night including that crotch-pole incident, a middle-of-the-street CPR emergency, and a drug bust.
The wedding took place at one of those quaint and quirky Vegas chapels. Several guests brought whisky, some were wearing jeans and sandals (e.g. the Bride’s father, a pot-crazy DJ from Hawaii), and there was a waiting line for the marriage. Perfect Vegas style. The best moment was when the bride and groom entered--he was wearing the gown and she was wearing the tux (which fit well with his long hair length and her short hair). Big round of applause and laughter. The rest of the ceremony was nice, and afterwards we attended the reception. It was held near the top of the stratosphere tower with an amazing view, delicious food and a free bar to boot (although I brought whisky in case). We would up sitting with the grandparents, but with sober Dee’s help we managed not to embarrass or upset them. After awhile we snuck out to ride the “Get off” ride atop the tower. Another ride, the “Get down”, looked cooler so we opted for that. Big mistake. It was a silly little car that jutted us a few feet off of the tower, and then back and forth a few times. Now that I think about it, our ride should really have the “get off” name. Disappointed but not deterred, we headed to the tower-top lounge for some more drinky-drinky. Some guest tried to lecture me about Absinthe, so I eye-gouged him. Well, I should have at least. That’s Vegas day 2.
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
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