02.01.2002 -> 02.03.2002 - Liquor, Luck and Ladies

In celebration of Mr. Bestfriendinthewholewideworld's twenty-first birthday, we spent the last three fun-filled days and two glorious nights marinating in liquor and sin in the Biggest Little City in the World. Who knew such an unhealthy and fun vacation could be just three hours away?

A few weeks ago, Mr. Bestfriendinthewholewideworld's parents offered to put us up at the Silver Legacy in Reno for the weekend so he could legally indulge in all the things he couldn't before last Wednesday. At the time they offered, I was feeling fairly comfortable financially, and as such, I jumped at the chance to go blow some cash on liquor, ladies and casino fun. Since then, I've run into car troubles that have pretty much completely depleted my expendable income, so I probably would have declined the offer to join them had they asked today. I'm glad they got to me ahead of time, because I would have missed out on a really enjoyable weekend had I passed.

I spent most of Friday on the phone with company management exchanging information to get everyone on the same page when my new manager arrives. This not only kept me in the office much later than I would have liked, it also kept me from enjoying what's most likely my last day completely alone in Jeffy's Temp-orium. As such, I was ready for fun times when I finally got the hell out of there.

I had the forethought to pack on Wednesday night, which allowed me to head directly from work over to Mr. Bestfriendinthewholewideworld's apartment where he and his parents waited for me so we could leave. I told them I would probably be home at around four o'clock. Ambling through the door at five thirty probably didn't please them too much. If they were upset, though, they didn't show it. I threw my suitcase in their Explorer and we hit the road.

Three hours, one hundred fifty miles and one fast food pit stop later, we debarked the SUV in front of the Silver Legacy and promptly froze our nipples off in the twenty-five degree Reno night. Mr. Bestfriendinthewholewideworld's father went inside to check us in, then returned with keys for our room and their room. We dropped our belongings off, checked out the rooms and quickly went out to enjoy the evening.

We went from the hotel down to the casino floor where we played video poker just long enough to get a free drink. I'd like to have a cocktail waitress in my apartment. Having an attractive scantily clad young lady around to fetch me beverages would certainly have its advantages.

You can blame that last comment on the kickbacks I'm getting from the League of Male Chauvinists.

While gambling can be fun, losing is not my style. After hopping between two casinos, we decided to explore what else the area has in the way of entertainment. Because we didn't want to pay cover to get into a jazz bar, we sauntered over to the neighboring brew pub, where I had the most magnificent beer ever created by God or Man. I'm not really into beer, but this was like candy, only candy that makes your face numb. The Brew Brothers get's Jeffy's full approval.

After plowing through several beers and enduring an unfathomably bad cover band, we decided to explore the town. As we strolled down the snow lined streets, we happened upon to tourists from India. After talking to the guys for a while, we offered to take their picture in front of the Reno arch. While we had the two gentlemen lined up, a group of girls came drunkenly bouncing and giggling towards us. One of them decided to grope and hug us from behind before jumping in the picture and striking a seductive pose. Mr. Bestfriendinthewholewideworld noticed her thong peeking out from her black booty pants. When he mentioned it, she gave him a pouty face, then turned around and removed her pants.

I LOVE RENO.

Shocked and giddy, we skipped down the street. The Great Chain of Being for Nevada gambling spots is Vegas, then Reno, then Lake Tahoe. Tahoe is limited by the fact that there are only four major casnios there and no girls showed me their naughty bits last time I went there. Reno has better quantity than Tahoe but less quality than Vegas. The only two casinos in Reno that didn't make me feel totally dirty were the Silver Legacy and El Dorado. We quickly discovered that the farther East one travles, the ghettoer the casinos get. When we made it down to the end, we hit the Cal Neva, which would have been completely not worth my time were it not for their glorious all day/all night ninety-nine cent breakfasts. I guess the combination of a mild buzz, greasy food and the joy of being able to sit down and eat something at three in the morning opened up the writing portion of my brain, because I started scribbling ideas down on a napkin like mad.

Unfortunately, I used that napkin to wike syrup off my face and left it on the table, so my public is stuck with more of the same assiness. My apologies.

On the way back to the hotel, we stopped at a liquor store so I could score some sweet sweet mentho-lyptus Halls cough drop action. My nagging cough followed me across the state line and I needed to pacify it. While we were there, Mr. Bestfriendinthewholewideworld purchased a forty of Olde English. When we in Reno, we do it Ghetto Fabulous style.

Finally, at about half past four in the AM, we made it back to the room. After harassing Mr. Bestfriendinthewholewidworld's brother via the two-way feature on their new phones for a while and partaking in some Johnny Bravo, we settled in for an abbreviated sleep.

For some unknown reason, I woke up a scant four hours later, just prior to a call from Mr. Bestfriendinthewholewideworld's parents inviting us down to the lobby for coffee. We declined, opting for a shower instead. After his parents came to our room, we headed downtown to dig on the area's pawn shops. Sometimes, good things are to be had in pawn shops. The closer the shop's proximity to a place where someone might get his or her legs broken by someone named Vito the Unpleasant for welching on a bet, the better the selection. This time, however, prices seemed too high for the most part. I did purchase several CDs (like I needed them), including a copy of Deltron 3030 for THREE DOLLARS. This was enough to make me wet myself, as it seemed like it was the only jackpot I'd be hitting.

At two o'clock, we started the day's drinking with a hot dog and a Heineken for a buck fifty at one of the casinos. We spent the rest of the day wandering around, occasionally gambling, occasionally debating over whether or not we should hit a strip joint to get some boobies in Mr. Bestfriendinthewholewideworld's face for his birthday. Since he had some in his face courtesy of a girl who didn't request that he stuff singles in her panties on Wednesday night, we decided against it.

We killed time until we were supposed to meet his parents for dinner at a steakhouse. I seriously need to send them one of those grossly oversized thank you cards you see at convenience stores for footing the bill for the whole weekend. It's not often that I get to spend a weekend away from home and get pampered with huge cuts of meat and tiny soaps, and I'm in their debt for giving me that privelige this weekend.

I had a ridiculously large cut of prime rib and a glass of wine. Mr. Bestfriendinthewholewideworld and his father ordered a bottle of wine to share but didn't like it. We still had half a bottle left, so continuing our Ghetto Fabulous ways, we recorked it and carried it out with our to-go containers when we left.

The next two hours were spent attempting to nap before going to see the Righteous Brothers. I'd been joking since we got there that the Righteous Brothers were actually dead because the publicity shots plastered everywhere made them look like dressed corpses. Still, I wasn't paying for the show, so I wasn't really in a position to complain.

We went down to the Grande Exposition Hall, and by walking into the lobby, Mr. Bestfriendinthewholewideworld and I brought the average age in the room down by about twenty years. As such, we made a beeline to the cocktail stand.

This would be drink three if you're counting.

I don't think I ever want to go to a show where the entire audience is sitting down again. When the Bros took the stage, I marvled at what can be done with animatronics these days.

The songs are okay, but these fellas are in no shape to be singing them. Bob Hatfield has so little voice he can barely speak, let alone sing. Bill Medley is quite possibly the oldest person I've ever seen don a mullet, and while this doesn't prevent him from singing well, I just don't want to see it. I'm also firmly against blue eyed soul acts who try to dance. The Righteous Brothers tried to get down, but really spent the entire set looking like they were trying to hold in a fart. They have the moves, I tell you.

Still, the concert wasn't awful. It just wasn't my scene. I was pretty glad to get the hell out of there when we did. We went from the concert hall up to the room, where we called Rodney while Mr. Bestfriendinthewholewideworld downed his forty of OE and I cleared the remaining half of the bottle of Merlot.

If you're thinking I indulged in a little more alcohol than I normally would or should have, you're right. I figured that since there was no possibility of me having to drive or do anything relatively important for the weekend, I might as well experiment. This would explain the lab coat I wore all weekend. Still, I never had more than a mild buzz, so it's not like I was being too foolish.

After we finished our respective bottles, we went downstairs to meet Mr. Bestfriendinthewholewideworld's parents before going out for the night. They were playing video poker, and while we talked to them, his mom gave me five quarters to pass the time. I played with those five quarters on a video poker machine for about twenty minutes before drawing four deuces on a deuces wild machine. Ecstatic, I immediately cashed out and had enough money to cover everything I spent over the weekend as well as drinks and debauchery for the evening.

Did I mention that I love Reno?

From there, we went to a rum bar that seemed to be hopping. We chilled with drinks and watch surprisingly entertaining dueling pianists for a while. Being drunk and a glory hog, Mr. Bestfriendinthewholewideworld jumped up on stage and played hand drums with them for a while. We had our fun for a while, but after an hour or so, we decided to bounce and head to the neighboring dance club.

Now, I'm not usually one for dancing or clubs, but this place was okay by me. It was packed and dark.

If my vacation taught me anything, it's that pretty much everything is better in the dark.

We ended up getting our freak on for a good five hours. Even though we ended up getting brushed off by the ladies more often than Krispy Kreme crumbs on the front of Rush Limbaugh's shirt, I still had a surprisingly good time.

Because Mr. Bestfriendinthewholewideworld has more game than Milton Bradley, he arranged for two young ladies to join us up in our room. They looked fine in the club, but once we got outside into the light, we realized just how much the dark helps.

See, my problem is that I was probably looking about as attractive as I possibly could that night it and it was dark, yet not a single lady in there seemed to want a piece of The Jeffy. I suppose it's not my element, but damn if that realization didn't kick me in the balls.

Anyway, the girls that seemed reasonably attractive inside the club, um, didn't seem so reasonably attractive in the florescent light. Mr. Bestfriendinthewholewideworld graciously opted to take one for the team and saddled up with the one with an enormous cold sore.

He'd take the herpes for me. I doubt you'd do the same.

I got stuck with the one that was reasonably attractive. Still, I wasn't upset when they had to leave to catch their ride shortly after we finished our bottle of champagne, but before the making out. Hooking up with a nasty local is not exactly something I want on my resume.

We awoke far too early the next morning for checkout. After we loaded up the car, we gambled for a little while. While I felt fine, Mr. Bestfriendinthewholewideworld basically passed out on a slot machine in full on hangover glory. It was classy.

Shortly thereafter, we hit the road. After a stop at Denny's, we made it back to Davis just in time for me to partially ignore the Superbowl and then head to bed.

They don't make enough weekends like this one.

-- Jeffy