Vegas: Afternoon to Evening

Saturday was the big wedding day. Nuptials were at 11 AM at one of the Elvis chapels, where Elvis would drive the happy couple down the aisle in a pink Cadillac, sing a few songs, and basically move and talk about with Elvis merriment.

We needed to return the Jeep to the rental place, which was conveniently located across from the Bellagio, where the Shadow and I were planning to go. Silky dropped us off, hopped in a car with his cousin, and drove off to the wedding. We went in search of the infamous Bellagio weekend brunch.

We stumbled around the casino a bit, forgetful of where the brunch was actually served, until we finally found it and the twenty minute wait outside. The Shadow was there with purpose, however, and would not abandon his gut. And so we waited...

The brunch was as delicious and incapacitating as it had six months earlier on our last trip. Breakfast consisted of eggs, french toast, leg of lamb, roast duck, chocolate éclairs, and a shitload of coffee. We forgot to tip our waitress, a gross oversight we instantly regretted eight hours later, and hit the sidewalk.

The next few hours were spent roaming the various casinos leading up to the recently added Wynn. Caeser's is typically huge, with sections looking like the sets of the movie 300. Except the malls, which look like every other typical high end mall you would fund anywhere in the
US.

And this is really my big beef with Las Vegas: the city is one large strip mall, filled with Tiffany's, Louis Vitton, and every other typically expensive and unnecessary store you can think of. The effort to separate you from your wallet is astounding, from the never ending malls and ornate, often intimidating architecture, to the four dollar bottles of water and expensive cab rides, ten dollar Corona's and twenty-five dollar blackjack tables. To experience Vegas in the name of debauchery requires the kind of money that most of us can't afford to throw away over a weekend. So how the hell are all these people doing it?

We met up with Silky in the room back at Disney Vegas, where parents and their children seemed to be all over the place. I beg you, please, if you have children, don't bring them to Vegas. Get a weekend sitter and go by yourself. And don't do it for me, do it for the kids, because there is no reason for a child to spend a better part of their weekend exposed to the profane living one's going to see on a casino floor. And there isn't one thing for a kid to do in Las Vegas. Not one. There's no parks or playgrounds or jungle gyms. I didn't even see a toy store in the midst of all the mercantilism. Leave them home.

We hung around the room a bit, getting ready to go out. Silky's cousin Diane came up to the room, a dangerous undertaking on her part, given the smell and condition of the facilities. From our window we could see New York New York and the roller coaster that runs around it. It was decided that before anything could be done, we had to ride the coaster.

The line to ride the coaster was formidable, like all lines in Vegas, but moved at a decent clip. It wasn't until we were pretty close to the coaster that the Fear really began to strike The Shadow. He became even more fidgety than usual and started to sweat a bit. We tried to talk him down when we realized Diane was a little nervous, too. Silky and I put on the brave face until we actually got on the coaster and did the long climb to the first drop. Then we screamed like little girls.

We grabbed a cab and headed to a local bar called the Double Down.

There is a Double Down in almost every town in America. You just have to go find it. Its usually a run down place with cheap beers and a beatup stage for a band in the corner. The walls are covered with stickers from previous acts, lending a bit of worthless history to the proceedings. Random tables and chairs sit a fair distance from the stage with two billiards tables in between that lean slightly to one side. It was the perfect place to start an evening.

We started with four dollar Sierra Nevadas and Stella Artois, continuing our theme of avoiding hard alcohol in hopes of staying strong for the whole weekend and not derailing the train. We joked and drank until the bride and groom arrived, which forced the action to the pool tables.

I'd like to report that there was a fair display of recreational skill at the tables, but no dice. Ernesto, the groom, possessed good skill, but was surrounded by lunks. The Shadow brought little finesse, while Silky and I traded bad shots. What Diane lacked in skill, she tried to make up for in luck and morale. None of it was effective, each game more painful to watch than the previous. Fun was had as we wallowed, neigh, languished in our absurdity. Soon, the band started loading gear to the stage and the pool tables were covered. It was our cue to head to our next destination: Champagne's.

A Shadowy man mumbling CCR.

From the moment we walked in the door to Champagne's, we knew we found our spot. The bar was red, red from floor to ceiling, with red lights, red velvet-like wallpaper, filthy red carpet, and all kinds of red trimmings. The room was warm and not overly crowded with an L shaped bar, the long end servicing a half dozen booths, the short a karaoke stage. We quickly split into two groups, the drinkers and the singing drinkers.

This was definitely a local bar. All of the performers knew each others names and didn't even need to refer to the songbook in order to pick. The songbook itself seemed about ten years old, which was ok, but was a bit light on choices. Alison and Silky kicked things off with a spoken word interpretive of "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds," followed by my rendition of "I've Got You Under My Skin" and The Shadow mumbling "Fortunate Son"

We hadn't really won the locals over yet until Silky performed a rousing, spirited rendition of "Stand By Your Man," which I followed with "You Make Me Feel So Young." Call it the booze, but suddenly strangers were cheering, asking us to help on their songs. I got pulled up to sing the Fred Schneider part on "Love Shack," an old classic with boisterous, over the top singing. Silky shocked and awed the crowd with a Tom Waits approach to "All of Me," then reteamed with Alison for a version of "The One That I Want" of Grease fame. Silky and I did a little backup on the Lion song for someone, then dropped an all male review of "Suspicious Minds," complete with Elvis ridiculousness.

Alison and Silky belt out the hits.

At this point it was around 2 AM. The karaoke guy started packing his shit and we all decided to head in. We dropped Diane off at the Tropicana where she parked her car and we headed back to Queer Castle.

All instincts pointed to food which sent us directly to the food court. One would expect that the food court in a Las Vegas casino would be open twenty four hours a day. Apparently not. The only establishment open was McDonalds, and they were closing for fifteen to twenty minutes for some reason. Pissed, but taking it as a sign, we proceeded upstairs to the buffet, whose line was at least an hour. We returned to McDonalds to find them not only still closed, but with a huge line. We sucked it up and waited, ate our food, and went to bed.