First Weekend of the Tournament Vegas Style | Sharapova's Thigh

First Weekend of the Tournament Vegas Style

Posted by Poorly Acquitted | 3/24/2008 07:57:00 AM

Ok so I can't quite give a running time blow-by-blow of the weekend since I decided not to take the computer to Vegas. Here are the highlights of spending the greatest sports weekend of the year in America's Playground

Thursday
- It's finally fucking here! I love this weekend. Sports book is freaking packed. Only have money on one game today. More beer in the room than we know what to do with, watching the games up there for a bit. Plus the blinds in our room have a remote control, so if I get bored I'll play with that.

- One of my buddies convinced a group of ladies to come up to the room. Nice. This is going to go well. My buddy, "hey ladies whose down for some strip poker." I'm thinking to myself, "you're a schmuck," until. "Ok" is the resounding response. I'm shocked. Then one of them gets a conscience about a "fiance" and literally goes sprinting out of the room. Pretty funny.

- Fairly low key for the rest of the night. On a sidenote though I do wish women in the rest of the world were as good looking as they are in Vegas.

Friday
- Wake up and am feeling f-ing hungry. Yell to my friends "no meat today bitches. it's your penance for Jesus Christos dying for your bitch asses." Oh yeah, I'm the only Catholic one here. With the hour I'm down in the food court and the hot dogs are calling my name. These are some big jumbo muthafuckas. I eat the shit out of them. 5 minutes later I'm at the craps table stickman says, "yeah on my way in I wanted to grab some McDonalds, then I remembered its Good Friday." Fuck I'm going to hell.

- The book is packed again. We decide to take a break from the games for a bit and hit the craps table. Craps is easy, plus its fun. I know there is this thing called beginners luck, but day up over $200 in an hour or so is cool with me.

- Ok so the real "problem" with losing a ton of money in Vegas isn't gambling. At least it shouldn't be. Spearmint Rhino is the greatest place on the face of the planet, but fuck you spend a shitload there. Obviously the scenery is great but the racket they have going there is amazing. This isn't the standard strip club. We got there early enough to get some good seats right by the main stage. Pretty high traffic area. There were probably less than 10 minutes of the night when one of us didn't have a lady on their lap. At first you're just talking, carrying on a conversation. Next thing you know you're $20 less rich. It keeps happening. You don't mind, it's only $20. Then they bring out the heavy hitters. These ladies will literally pull you of your chair to get you back to the VIP area. That's when it hits you. $100 is a lot more than $20. Then you're trying to think of how many times you've reached into your wallet that night. You can't remember though because there's titties in your face and an adventuresome hand on your crotch. For the record I'm not sure what it is that strippers put on their skin, but I want to buy it. I would just rub my face against myself all day if I had skin like that. After our visit all of us our way down for the weekend, but comfortably ok with it.

Saturday
- We decide that today is the day for the book. We camp out and get front row seats and pretty much post up for the day. Free drinking and lots of sports. Heaven. The book is also a great place to people watch. It's also a great place to see a lot of douchebaggery. Why is the kid behind me in a Minnesota shirt screaming for Wisconsin? You never cheer for rivals, period. You also never bet on rivals, unless its for them to lose. I want to hit him. I consult my Long Island Ice Tea. It tells me just to grip and sip. I oblige.

- After the games end its dinner time. We eat some burgers guilty conscience not included today. Tables at the Monte Carlo are cold, MGM is even colder but were having an awesome time. The wandering continues. It's after 4am. Where did the night go? We decide, as most logical people at this point, Denny's looks fucking delicious. Holy fucking shit the country fried steak and eggs never tasted so good.

- Head back to the hotel on the way my one buddy rushes to the side of the walkway just as were crossing over the canal at Venetian. I think he's gonna puke. Somehow he holds in. That would have been an awesome ending. We decide to play a little video poker, do alright. Mostly we're just trying to wind down the weekend. I remember that my flight is at like 12 and everybody telling us how packed the airport is going to be. My friends want to go to bed I decide that going bed will lead to me missing my flight so I grab six beers and my things. Say my goodbyes and set off for the airport . I'm finishing up the last of the six as I'm walking through security. I'm in great mood waving to everybody, shaking hands with all the cops telling them Happy Easter, etc. Bad idea. I get cuffed right after I walk through. I guess since I was laughing so hard about it, or maybe they realize I'm harmless they let me go. I'm still laughing. They tell me to tone it down. I ask if the 3 hour chill out before the flight should be enough time. They're skeptical.

Sunday
- Well I'm home, 6pm in Denver. I'm still wasted. My family is really impressed. So am I.