Let It Ride

To end Vegas, which ended two weeks ago, I'm going to quickly wrap it up because

1. I was hammered, and forgot a lot of the last day.

2. It was two weeks ago and there's other shit on my mind.

We hung out by the pool all afternoon on Saturday, and I don't do that so it was a big deal. I just sat there and read and drank and watched some guy have a seizure. A bad seizure. He was just sitting on the chair and started gyrating, fell off and kicked the chair into the pool. Every single drunken asshole there thought they knew exactly what to do for this guy, and all I could do was just sit there and watch, because what the fuck was I going to do? Stand there and ooh and awe and just be in the way, like all of the pool bastards.

After that we hit up dinner, David entered his poker tournament, which I was banned from watching, and the rest of us went back to the Sahara for some more craps, because that's what's up. We stayed there until the tournament was over and David showed up at our sides, fourteenth place out of forty, so that's not bad. I was allowed to play craps but only with Leeska, and once I was up a hundred I stopped, and eventually we left to go find the giant slot machine at the Bellagio.

That being said, the giant slot machine at the Bellagio is in fact, not at the Bellagio. It's between Paris and Bally's, and it took us hours to find the damn thing. I can't believe it took hours, because seriously, it's a giant fucking slot machine, like the Price is Right wheel, so how do you miss something like that?

David was adamant. "It's by a fountain. I know it's by a fountain."

"Isn't it down a hallway?" Katsisch, and her two cents.

"Yeah, a hallway to the right. It's to the right of whatever direction we were walking."

"Which direction were we walking?" Me.

"I have no idea."

So we covered the entire floor of the Bellagio a couple times, when it occurs to Katsisch that the giant slot machine at the Bellagio is probably elsewhere.

No way. No fucking way. Where the hell is it?

After brainstorming other casinos that look similar to the Bellagio, we decided to hit up Paris, because it was closest.

The casino floor of the Paris, by the way, is bad ass. Way better than the city in France. They didn't like me there, I got along much better with the Irish. No surprise there.

We walk inside, and automatically everyone starts getting excited. It's here. It's totally here. We can feel it humming in the distance. We search all over for it, hot and cold, and finally see it. Line up to play. Every pull on that machine is an effort, and we win nothing.

Leeska, David and I head back to the Sahara. I lose all of my money again except for twenty bucks, and watch them play blackjack for awhile until about six in the morning when we decide it's time to give up.

But the last thing we have to do is roulette. They were getting ready to shut down the wheel when we tripped up to it, and we laid all of our money on it. Twenty on red for me, Leeska and David picked black. The dealer spins the wheel and we start chanting, let it ride...let it ride..let it ride.

I WIN. Double my money. Fuck it, we agreed that we'd keep on playing until one of us hit two hundred or went broke. I keep forty on red, Leeska and David cash in on twenty more apiece and play the numbers. Spin the wheel.

I win AGAIN, and I'm the unluckiest motherfucker alive. Fuck it. Eighty on red. Spin it, bitch. Let it ride.

I win again. One sixty. I'm hesitant now, I want to pull my chips off the board, cash in and pass out. But they talk me out of it, we agreed two hundred or broke. We HAVE to let it ride. One sixty on red. Spin.

Lose.

And we never found fat Elvis.

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