I went to Vegas for New Years. That was 22 days ago…the motivation to write about it has certainly passed, BUT.. I planned to do it so here goes.

I got an invitation to stay with a friend. She said, “Come to Vegas for New Years, you can stay at my place.” It is just wrong to say no to that.

So I went with a buddy who joined me last minute and it couldn’t have worked out better. We drove from Sherman Oaks on the 31st and get to Vegas by about 6 pm. We arrive at my friend Lisa’s place and our first errand is to take her daughter to a friend’s house. It’s about an hour and a half round trip to do this, booze run included. We get back to this glorious house in Vegas, to which I now have a key, and it’s just me and my buddy Kaido (he got the nickname on the trip and will be referred to as such). Got the whole place to ourselves as Lisa is out for the evening.

We got all snazzed up and ready to hit the strip. We were about a 25-minute cab ride away. Just before we took our first pre-party shot of Jager I thought, “Let’s call the cab first, make sure they’re on their way before I render myself undriveworthy.” It was 9:30 pm, New Years Eve, in Vegas. Called a cab company—busy. Called another—busy. Panic sets in. Keep calling to no avail. Maybe Lyft or Uber? NOPE. They don’t exist in Vegas. Of course. More panic. FINALLY, Kaido gets ahold of someone. They said they’ll be here whenever. “Can you give us a time estimate?” “Nope.” Click.

I didn’t trust ‘em, nor did Kaido. Expecting the worst I said, “If they don’t call by 10 I’ll just drive us as close as we can get and figure it out from there.” They closed the strip off to cars for New Years and the thought of walking any great distance in 20 degree weather was worrisome, but goddamnit we’ve gotta be there when the ball drops. The night was looking very bleak at this point.. More stress, more phone calls, I start getting ready to drive, coming to terms with the fate of the night, and his phone rings. 9:58. “Hey, I’m outside.” said the driver. 20 minutes for a cab on New Years Eve. Lucky we were and we knew it. We scurry to get dressed, chug several shots, grab the flask and we’re on our way. Life was good again.

Make it to the strip. Lots of people. I drank in public in front of police officers. Kissed a random girl at midnight. We were out all night and didn’t get back until sunrise, as any decent Vegas New Years celebration should end.

We sneak quietly back into the house and make way for this beautiful L-shaped couch that perfectly fits my tall self and Kaido’s shorter self, only to find there’s someone sleeping in it (WITH MY PILLOW…Breath…breathe…) I gently took the pillow out from under the motionless stranger. He stayed motionless. Yeah, that’s right he did. … Kaido heads upstairs to the backup bedroom that was also reserved for us—also currently inhabited. We share a moment of “wtf” and reluctantly make our bed on the floor and fall asleep promptly at 7 a.m.

Are you bored? You can stop reading, this is really just me forcing creativity. I have a cold, I’ve been putting this story of for 20 days, meh.. Still here? OKay, let’s see, what else..

I did share a bed with two models I’d just met, so that was exciting to other people I’ve told that don’t know the full story.

My roommate is a model and got flown to Vegas to be pretty at certain clubs and pool parties and such. She and three of her friends were all working together so Kaido and I met up with them each night in Vegas at 3:30am when their shifts were over. The second night we were in their room just hangin for what turned into hours. It was 6 a.m. and they offered us to stay with them. I sure didn’t wanna deal with a cab ride home, so I said “Ohhh allright.” I ended up sleeping in between two sisters. By sleeping I mean I laid there motionless, wide awake thinking one of two things: “I really feel like I’m intruding here, how did I get stuck in the middle?!? Not that I’m complaining, but between two sisters whom I just met the day before… I can’t help feeling like I’m in the way…” Second thing: “Why doesn’t our society cater to platonic cuddling?! I feel so stupid lying here trying not to touch anyone. I could ask them, I mean, we just met, but what’s the big deal? However if they say no then I’ll feel super awkward and would start sweating and farting or something. I laid there, slept a little, made it through.

Earlier that night we were going to meet them at a nightclub they were working at. It was Tao in the Venetian. Super fancy. Kaido and I took our time getting there, gambled a bit (I won $120 on blackjack! then lost $40, then won $20 again!) and we got sushi at a karaoke bar in the Palazzo or someplace. I sang Kiss From A Rose, apologized to the crowd for a few of the notes, sat back down and this older guy with an accent and a trophy girlfriend starts talking to me. He said he lives in Burbank so I figured he was important in some way, definitely rich, why not try and make friends? He made very crass sexual jokes in front of his lady, Kaido hated him and I don’t blame him. I’m pretty good with letting people’s poor qualities slide in order to make new friends, but this guy was a real asshole despite his liking to me.

He and his lady were also going to Tao so they joined us on the walk over. We get there and there’s HUGE crowds to get in. BUT, we have friends on the inside. Easy peasy. Walk to bouncer number one, he says go talk to bouncer number two. Number two asks for a name, I text my roomie for a name, she gives me one—“Not on the list.” She gives me another—“Nope.” Nope. Not gettin in. All of a sudden that guy we met at the karaoke bar gets in. They ask how many in his party, he says “Just two.” And they’re gone forever. Duly noted asshole guy with an accent, duly noted.

So now we’re with all the other losers outside of the club not allowed in. I felt very belittled and reminded myself why I hate Vegas and nightlife in general. Roomie texted that Drake was inside. Then I thought to myself: Next time I’m in Vegas…I WILL BE THE DRAKE. I am Jewish so I’m halfway there.

The night was great until now. I felt like such an idiot standing outside so desperate to get in. But then—I saw a stereotypically beautiful girl, all dolled up in a sexy dress, amazing looking body parts, and SHE couldn’t get in. I looked at her, she must have spent hours getting ready, looked amazing and still couldn’t get in. SHE should be embarrassed…me? I’m just some dude. I felt better after that.

Those are the highlights I can remember. I usually write these things in the energy of the moment. Had I written this 20 days ago I think it would have been much more interesting. I can hardly recollect the moments anymore. They say the first book on Jesus was written 50 years after his death—20 days and I’m already hazy and generally unenthused by the experience. I’ve moved on! I feel like this post is just as boring as the Bible, but probably much more accurate in regard to truthful events. Thanks for reading, don’t give up on me just yet.. Next time: I will be the Drake. YOU’LL SEE! .. You’ll all see…



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