Strange memories on this nervous night in Las Vegas.

Well I'm back from the bachelor party in Vegas. Good times were had by all. McNutty was on his best behavior, well for the most part, and everyone enjoyed their trip down to the desert. As promised I will list a few details, but there will be those moments that'll definitely stay in the city of lights. Yes like a mafioso's corpse I will remain silent about such events.

First off I got off of work and headed to Seatac airport. As I made it through the long security line I decided to go get a beer near my gate. I sat at a small table and next to me were six guys. All of them were about early forties and seemed like middle management sales people who probably breezed through college on cliff notes. I overheard them discussing their upcoming trip into Vegas reminding each other how their wives are going to divorce them if they find out about the debauchery that will ensue.

One turned to me and asked me if I was going to the same destination. I said yes and told them I was going to a bachelor party. Their eyes got big and they were quick to recommend a few places. I half heartedly thanked them, finished my beer, and headed to the gate.

The gate was packed so I leaned up against the wall and started reading my book. The cheesy sales rep managers types stood next to me and started chatting it up. One volunteered that they were going because none of them have ever had a bachelor party so they told their wives they were going on a trip to Colorado for some golfing and fishing. Yeah I imagined this ending badly once the credit card bills came to the door.

A hot girl walked by and the guy next to me whistled at her. Yes in true construction worker like manner he gave her a whistle. She stopped, looked at me, tilted her head and smiled and waved. Then she walked off.

I stood there with my jaw dropped. The guy who did the whistling got real upset.

"What the...," he said very confused. "You didn't even do it? Why'd she look at you?"

"Probably cause I'm so damn good looking," I said.

He wasn't amused.

"Fuck that," he replied. "That girl's just a skank blah blah blah blah..."

I decided to go back to reading my book.

The night of the bachelor party was a hoot as you might imagine. After the festivities McNutty and his friend Lenny decided they wanted to go eat. Everyone else wanted to go back to the resort, but I decided to go with them as I was feeling adventurous.

We walked into the Monte Carlo and Lenny made a dash for the poker room. McNutty and I walked to a cafe and sat and ate. Three girls sat next to us and McNutty started a conversation with them. I wasn't paying attention really until I heard on of the girls say "Okay that was really rude. We're leaving now."

"See ya," said McNutty.

The girl gave him a dirty look. She looked at me and said, "We're going to play Pai Gow."

McNutty just couldn't let it go.

"He doesn't care," he yelled.

Ye gods. I had no earthly idea what he said, nor would he tell me. He stated that he thought they were fat anyways and he wanted nothing to do with them.

I felt bad for the girls. Here they were trying to get some attention in the city that's known for giving it at the drop of a hat and here some dipshit felt it was a great idea to openly mock them. Plus they weren't fat. They looked liked they were in their mid 30s having a girls trip away from their inattentive slobs of husbands.

McNutty and I chatted for a while and I decided to make my leave. As I was walking out of the Monte Carlo I saw the girls playing Pai Gow. I walked up to them and apologized if my buddy insulted them.

"Oh it's okay sweetie," the loudest of the bunch said. "You shouldn't be hanging with him anyways."

"He's an okay guy. Just drunk," I said. "Anyways good luck."

"Why don't you hang out with us?" another girl said.

"I shouldn't," I replied.

"Awww you've got a girl back home," she said.

"Yeah I do."

"Well isn't she the lucky girl," she stated. Yeah she was indeed really drunk.

"If you saw her you'd know it's I who am the lucky one," I said. "Thanks anyways kid. Take care." I walked out.

It was about 2am outside on the strip. I thought it would be a swell idea to venture out on my own, to soak in the atmosphere and observe what it is we love about sin city. I wanted to see something I don't see in Seattle. I didn't have to walk far.

A girl came walking past me screaming into her cell phone. She was an attractive gal, but she seemed really upset. Her conversation went like this:

"You need to get me a fucking cab...no I have no idea where the fuck I'm at...some guy just hit me in the face..yes...fucking hit me...you need to get me a fucking cab...oh fuck you I'm drunk...you fucker I'm coming down there to whoop some..."

I glanced over at her. She wouldn't look at me. A couple walked next to me on the other side.

"Ahh vegas drama," the guy said.

"Yes gotta love it," I said.

"Wanna hear something funny?" his girlfriend asked.

"Sure," I said.

"We're married," she replied.

"And that's funny why?" I asked.

"We're not married to each other," she stated.

"I see."

"Nah man you got it all wrong," the guy said. "My wife has been fucking her husband. We decided to come down and here and spend the weekend just getting fucking crazy."

"How's the working out for you?"

"So far so good my friend," he said as he threw his arm around his companion in adultery giving me a wink. She got embarrassed and they walked off.

I walked down the strip some more and witnessed people yelling, drinking, and having a good time. Three girls approached me with clipboards in hand and asked if I would do a survey.

"What for?" I asked.

"See we're doing a study on sexual habits in Las Vegas," she said. "We want to ask male tourists about what their sexual expectations are and how many get fulfilled."

"Well I did come down here for a bachelor party," I said. "But really I don't expect to be getting any on this trip."

"Still do you mind taking the survey?" one of the girls asked.

"Sure," I said. "Fire away."

She asked me all sorts of questions. Some of the highlights that are obviously paraphrased are:

1. Did you travel to Las Vegas with the express intent of having sex?

2. Did you bring any form of birth control?

3. If you have a female significant other did you come here to engage in homosexual sex?

4. Does your girlfriend/wife allow you to perform anal and/or oral on her? If not do you hope to achieve that with a girl or guy in Las Vegas?

5. Did you bring drugs with you? If so what kind? Did you bring them with the intent of enhancing the sexual experience? Do you hope to give them to a girl in the hopes that she will sleep with you? Do you plan to bargain sexual favors with them?

6. Do you plan to use the services of a prostitute?

Sounds like Scott's Freaky Friday questions.

The last day Corey and I went souvenir shopping for our girls back home. The Pretty Girl attended the University of South Carolina which has a rooster for a mascot and is called 'Gamecock'. I'm not kidding.

We went into a souvenir shop where Corey wanted to get a t-shirt made for his gal. I saw a design that said "I love" and had a picture of a rooster on it. I decided that given the fact that the Pretty Girl had an appropriate alumni that I would get the t-shirt. I asked the guy about it and his face lit up and got really friendly. I was somewhat confused by this until I then noticed his pink shirt that said 'Hot Boy' and he was blaring Madonna.

I don't think he believed me when I said I was buying it for my girlfriend.

Whew. I should probably wrap this up. There is far more to tell though.

I came home at 3 in the morning. The Pretty Girl came and picked me up from the airport. After not seeing her for about a week she looked more lovely than I've ever seen her. Coming home was indeed the best part of this trip.

"And that, I think, was the handle — that sense of inevitable victory over the forces of Old and Evil. Not in any mean or military sense; we didn’t need that. Our energy would simply prevail. There was no point in fighting — on our side or theirs. We had all the momentum; we were riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave. . . .So now, less than five years later, you can go up on a steep hill in Las Vegas and look West, and with the right kind of eyes you can almost see the high-water mark — that place where the wave finally broke and rolled back." - Hunter S Thompson, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.