Things I learned in Vegas that weren’t covered in the Godfather movies
Whenever someone says to you, “but it’s a dry heat”? It’s bullshit. Effective sweating also means that anything over 90° feels like the inside of an oven, and regardless of temperature this weekend has been an attack on my mucous membranes I will not soon forget. I don’t think I could live in any climate zone that doesn’t have “humid” in its name. I quite honestly prefer the sensation of drowning in the air that one meets in a southeastern summer. Both situations are going to require some external aid, either simply for cooling or to prevent dehydration after the natural process of cooling, but at least with one you know what you’re getting into.
Much like bars, I prefer casinos when it’s late at night and they’re full of sketchy drunks. The flow of money doesn’t even matter; it’s just such a relaxed, inviting atmosphere.
I do not understand the appeal of slot machines. Gambling of any sort can be distilled into a set of numbers in the house’s favor, but slot machines remove all of the comfort of interaction. Push a button, don’t win any money. It takes away the abstraction of the game, the decisions that fool you into thinking you can win if you just try a little harder, leaving only naked mathematics and some bleeps and bloops and flashing lights. I have never liked the idea of slots, and now I can say that with the authority of experience. I like roulette. It’s a guaranteed loss and a fascinating array of ways to get there.
I will abandon my principles for a double-double.
Fifty ounces is a heckuva lot of beer.
Vegas is just another bullshit town.
There’s a unique joy in getting drunk before noon outside of an airport.
Nevada is on Pacific time, not Mountain. This only strengthens my notions of Mountain Time as the empty time zone, a place that is home to Ted’s buffaloes (maybe?) and little else. And maybe El Paso? I can never remember.
Like the lady at the cashier counter said, “It can’t be all that bad. You’re still smiling.”
So that was Vegas. Congratulations to Chris on his upcoming martitals.
May 31st, 2009 at 7:07 am
Yep, El Paso is in the Mountain Time Zone, yet another factor which cuts us off from the rest of Texas… but means you don’t have to fiddle with your watch when you get to Albuquerque!
I think the buffalo are off in Roswell waiting to stampede over Hank Williams Jr.:
http://www.roswellufofestival.com/