What happens in Vegas...

...goes in my blog!!!

Pat: Hey Kent, what are we doing for New Years?
Kent: I have no idea.
Pat: Vegas!
Kent: Really??? Are you serious???

And just like that, our Vegas adventure was born.


This really was a last minute decision. The above conversation happened probably the day after Christmas, and we threw the trip together on the 30th. The initial plan was for Kent and I to get a cheap room in Barstow, drive into Vegas to party, and then drive back out and sleep. Yes, a bad idea, but all we could afford. Then we got James and Matt involved, and all of a sudden, we were looking at rooms on the strip! We booked a room at the Tropicana on the 30th for New Years Eve, and we were set.

We met the next morning at 7am at my house here in Morgan Hill; and with a brief stop to get some donuts, we were on our way. The drive down to Vegas was rather uneventful. We fought Kent's gasseous ass and generally just relaxed and listened to music until our first stop all the way out in the Mojave Desert. This stop ended up being three stops in short succession. We stopped at the Boron rest stop so Matt could go to the bathroom. We stopped a few minutes later at the 58-395 intersection to get some gas for James' car (he couldnt quite make it the 20 more miles or so to Barstow), then, 20 minutes later, we stopped in Barstow for some Jack in the Box and a Vons run for some provisions. After that we jumped on I-15 and had a rather uneventful rest of the drive into Vegas.

This was Matt and Kent's first time in Vegas, and they were rather impressed. We got off the freeway way past the Tropicana, and drove back down it, giving these two a feel for The Strip. Then we started the process of getting into our rooms. Getting into the Tropicana was interesting. They were making you enter all the way down at their parking lot enterance on Tropicana road. Then you had to stop at this one guy who was checking to make sure everyone going into the parking lot was staying there. Once given the clear, we were sent through the parking lot, all the way around the hotel to the parking garage. Finally, after about 15 minutes, we were parked and able to unload our stuff. James checked us in and we went up to our room.

Once in our room we all took turns taking a shower. Kent went first, which ended up being a big mistake. Kent needed to bic his head again, and the shower's drain was all clogged up. So, after Kent's 45 minute shower, the tub that the shower was in was half full and kent's hair was floating around everywhere. The rest of us took showers in his filth. Lovely. We also watched the Niners game (go niners!) and ironed our nice clothes. Showered, pressed, and clothed, we hit the strip looking our absolute best.

We started out in the Tropicana, and found a 5 dollar craps table. Here we were, 4 guys with our suits and money rolls, but we were playing the 5 dollar tables at the Tropicana. We're such posers. After Kent decided he was done losing his money, we decided to head down to a hotel more fitting of our attire. We went to the Bellagio.

Upon entering the Bellagio, we quickly realized that we could not afford to play at any of their tables. The lowest limit was 25 bucks, and as rich as we may have appeared, we were posing. So, we decided to get a feel for a few other casinos. We went next door to Caesars, which I know very well from my dancing days (thats another story), and wandered around there for a bit. We left James in the poker room there to lose some money and get drunk. Matt, Kent and I continued on in search of a craps table we could afford. The Mirage was a strikeout, but then we crossed the street (which was now closed for New Years Eve, pretty sweet, eh), and went into Harrah's, where we found 15 dollar limit craps tables and settled in to play. My first 100 bucks lasted me about 45 mins (I was up about 150 at one point, but i was having fun playing and the table promtly went cold...ah well). After about an hour of playing, James met up wiith us there, I cashed out only down 120, and we caught the monorail back to the Tropicana.

When we got back, we decided to change back into our street clothes, which were much more comfortable for walking around the Strip in. We relaxed and drank a little bit. After we felt recovered enough, we hit the strip to celebrate the New Year with the masses. The Strip was packed. People everywhere. Budweiser had trucks set up on every block selling mini pitchers of beer to people, and I'm not sure there was a sober person in Vegas (well, except for the little kids there who were with their parents. Honestly, who brings their 4 and 5 year old kids to new years on the Vegas Strip??? Does no one know how to parent anymore?). We met up with Deleana and her gaggle of friends in front of the Bellagio, and we watched the New Years fireworks celebration from there. The fireworks were pretty cool, they were shooting them off of at least 4 casinos (from what I could see): The Monte Carlo, the MGM Grand, the Flamingo, and Treasure Island. After the New Year hit, we wandered back down to our hotel with the masses (hugging and high 5ing so many random people along the way it was insane) and we went to sleep. Well, matt went out and gambled some more (I think he has a problem), and came home muttering something about boning some fat chick (according to an innebriated and passed out james)...but the rest of us slept.

And then the real fun began...

The next morning we got up and packed up the car so we could check out by 11. Then James sat down at a blackjack table and the rest of us went to find some food. We made Matt pay for our buffet since he was the only one to win this weekend (he finished 7 bucks up). Then we took off and hit the freeway runnign. Sorta. The freeway was PACKED! There was a mass exodus out of Las Vegas, and thus everyone was on the only freeway outta town with us. To give an example of how slow things were: it took us 30 mins to go the two blocks from the hotel to the freeway, 2 hours to go the 40 miles from Vegas to Jean, and 4 1/2 hours to make the usually 2 hour drive to Barstow. However, the traffic did give us the opportunity to make some friends on the freeway.

Kent made numerous signs to communicate with our friends on this trip...
"Hi"
"I like you, do you like me?" "I like sex, its nice" (if youve seen Borat, you know where this came from...its supposed to be funny...so start laughing).
"#?" (this actually works sometimes)
"<3" or "and then some blank paper for some specific responses (including kents phone number)
We were mainly looking for hot girls to use these signs on...but our lofty standards made us have to settle for others to show our signs to. Here were some people of note:

~A Neon with two girls who just giggled when they saw the signs, and then tried to take a picture of us...we floored it. You can't just take pictures of us! God, popularity is rough.
~A Prelude with the license plate Batgirl. Two girls inside gave us smiles at first, but then ignored us. Bitches. Whatever.
~A PT Cruiser with one gorgeous girl, a dude, and a girl in the back. The cute one seemed to be having fun with it, but the dude driving the car sped away...he was jealous, methinks. However, we ran into them again up the road and the girl was driving! So, she gave us her number, and then we gave her Kent's number, and we got a call from her. Her name was Kristin, and she said she was from Canada and LA. I think she's a lying bitch, but it was still fun to actually get someone on the freeway to talk with us. Although, I think Kent disappointed them because all he could say was "hey, you wanna come eat with us. You sure you don't wanna come eat? Please come eat with us" It was pathetic.
~There was a Tahoe with some Latino guy driving and two rather portly girls in the passenger and back seats. This one was only amusing because she had paper too and was writing back to us. When Kent put up his "I like sex. Its nice" sign, sher replied with "Hard sex?" WHO DOES THAT??? We were scared, so we floored it.
~There were also some guys in a civic and a family in a Highlander, but they weren't as good of stories.

Finally, we were in Barstow and we got some dinner and some gas. Then we jumped on highway 58, figuring the worst was behind us. Boy were we wrong. Apparently, our night had only just begun...

Just past the 395 intersection we ran into a dead stopped highway. Bored and curious, Kent, Matt and I hop out of the car and start wandering up the highway. We made some friends along the way, and finally got up to a trucker. The trucker (and his CB radio) told us that there was a head on collision up ahead, and the highway was expected to be closed for at least the next hour. Oh boy! So we wander back, and let people know, and I call my dad to as if there was an alternate route around this. And he said Yes! He said go back to 395, head north for about 15 miles, and there should be Twenty Mule Team Parkway. Take that and you should get around it! Awesome, we headed back up 395. Now, Parkway sounds like it should be a nice, large, paved, well lit road, right? Apparently not in the middle of nowhere. Twenty Mule Team Parkway was a dirt road...to start. We set off, and the dirt was pretty smooth and we figured it was ok. Then the pavement started...sorta. It was a poorly kept partial pavement with millions of potholes everywhere. So, we played a game, dodge the potholes.

We lost.

I want to take this moment to bring to your attention how most scary movies these days start. 4 kids find a short cut that goes through the middle of nowhere. Their car gets busted up and they are stranded. Then a nice tow truck shows up and offers to help them. Of course, by help, they meant viciously torture. Well, this was exactly how our night was beginning to look. James' car hit a pothole that was 8 inches deep at the edges and up to a foot deep in the center. His front right tire blew out and his plastic bumper got fucked up. Luckily, we aren't completely helpless. We get the spare out, picked up the pieces of bumper out of the pothole, and put the donut spare on. Unfortunately, we could only go 50 mph on the donut spare, and the night of new year there was no tire place open. So, my parents called up my grandparents, who live in Lancaster, and we went there to crash for the evening. The saddest part of all of this? One mile past where we blew the tire out, the road became perfectly paved with lines and everything. We had almost made it out. And, even with our setback, we made it back to 58 right when the first traffic from the accident was let through. So, it would have been an amazing round about if not for the pothole.

The totals for Monday the 1st: 9 1/2 hours on the road, 270 miles traveled total.

My grandparents were super cool. They had some food and beer waiting for us, and 4 beds for us to sleep in. So awesome. The next morning James went to a tire place my grandpa had suggested, and his tire was fixed in no time. We packed up, thanked my grandfather profusely, and hit the road again.

The trip home was, thankfully, uneventful. We stopped for lunch at Denny's at the I-5/CA-46 junction. And we tried making more friends on the freeway, with minimal success. The only real success we had was on 156 over Pacheco Pass, where Kent actualy pulled a number off of a car with two cougars in it. However, they wrote it on an index card, and kent was too slow to get the digits off the card. Failure. The highway then became one lane, and all hope was lost for reconnecting with the ladies. Finally, we were home.

This trip taught me a few things. One, I never wanna drive to or from Vegas ever again. I'm flying from now on. Two, Vegas on New Years is awesome and something to do every year (if you can afford it). Three, I'm glad I'm a man and know how to change a tire and deal with adversity. We couldda all freaked out when things got fucked up, but we just dealt with it instead. Finally, road trips with your friends are awesome.

I hope you enjoyed this little look into my New Years adventure. If you ever have a chance to go to Vegas on New Years...do it! But fly...