Viva Scoot Vegas
On Tuesday last week my friend Ken and I headed out on a hastily-arranged, cheap 2-day trip to Las Vegas.
Cheap, meaning that our plane tickets were under $120 round trip and our hotel was $39 before taxes. But for me, that was where cheap ended.
Now, those of you who know me know that I am a walking loser. I simply cannot win no matter what I do, and if all the stars align in my favor, I still find a way to lose. So any time I go to Las Vegas (this was my 5th gambling visit) I go with a budget in mind of how much I'm going to lose. And this time I learned from past mistakes and set a daily limit as well.
As we boarded our flight Ken talked about a dream he had about the Vegas trip and his plans for while we were there. I however had not had any such dream nor made any plans. Why? Because any time I board a plane I do so expecting to die, so I don't bother getting too excited about anything that may happen after the flight.
While we were getting situated we learned that our flight would have a stop in Tulsa. "Great," I said to Ken, "Now the odds of us dying just doubled."
Amazingly we survived both legs of the flight so my death was postponed... for now.
By about 10:30pm the first day I was down to just $25 of my first day's loss budget. Since Ken is superstitious and thinks I cool him if I am not playing, I gave him his space and walked from one end of the strip to the other and back. While I was out midnight hit so I stepped into a casino for about half an hour to play a little blackjack. As expected, I lost.
The next day I see-sawed for a while at the blackjack table and thought I might actually come home with some leftover cash. No, of course not. I should never have thought such a thing. Before long I had only $20 left and needed that for supper and cab fare.
So, needless to say, I spent much of Wednesday afternoon sitting in the bar or outside on the strip.
Now, there is one mystical power I do have in Las Vegas. All that's required is $100, a slot machine, and a Ken.
It happened in 2004, and it happened again this time. Ken was down. I had lost $100 in a slot machine. I declared that machine "cursed" and told Ken to play it. Voila, Ken gets a huge payout. This time it was the jackpot.
If only I'd have declared a progressive machine as "cursed".
We miraculously survived the return flight even though a massive bank of severe storms in Arizona had me convinced we wouldn't. I got home with less than $6 in my pocket.
Next time, Las Vegas, next time. You owe me. You owe me big.
Assuming of course I survive the flight there.
Check out Ken's blog entry for Day 1 and Day 2 for tons more details and some comic highlights.
Comments
Further proof that Scoot's a cooler? When we were in Vegas for his birthday in 2004, our buddy Nik and I were moving from table to table at the Hard Rock Hotel seeing who could turn $20 into $100 the quickest. After having racked up several hundred dollars, our buddy Codding asked me to sit down and let Scoot share in some of my luck. Against my better judgement, I sat down next to Scoot at a table. In under five minutes I had lost $100. After that I went to another table and, flying solo, won the $100 back.
Watch out, William H. Macy...if they cast "The Cooler II" you are gonna have some stiff competition.
Posted by: Ken | August 27, 2006 11:46 PM