"Whaaa happened?!" El Cortez Vegas Trip, May 28th, 2010

The alarm goes off at 4:30 AM, and I work my way out of the house trying to remain as quiet as possible. The early morning hour has me stumbling and I managed to drop a glass, and kick a few pieces of furniture (and the dog) in the darkness. So much for being stealthy.

I pick up Cory at his place and we chat about how we each had difficulty sleeping. It's going to be a long day. Once at the airport, we park in the garage directly across from the terminal. No shuttles this morning. Zip through security, and we're now sitting at the bar with about an hour to spare before our flight boards. I exchange a few early morning texts with Alora with her arriving early at her airport. We settle in with some over priced airport food. Before us we each have a searing tall coffee and a mass produced, nitrate and sodium filled sausage and cheese sandwich. It wasn't as healthy as the fruit we could have gotten, but damn it was good.

I also notice a familiar face now ordering a double pour of tequila (It's not even a quarter past 6:00 AM yet). I make conversation with the gentlemen who I assume is heading to Vegas. "Hey, I played Let it Ride with you at the Horseshoe a few weeks ago. Visiting the wife in Vegas?" He seems to recognize me and asks "Why is it, people always remember me from a casino?" He pays for his drink with a $20 and doesn't ask for change. He's a seven star player and all the pit bosses and dealers in Council Bluffs seemed to recognize him. His wife lives in Vegas, but he's here in Omaha. He was flying into Vegas and renting a car to hit up Reno. Small world.

We board quickly enough, and manage to snag about the 5th row back. The seat between us remained vacant, so we already were winners. Once the flight attendants start taking drink orders, I opt to get us each a bloody mary, and a rum and diet. Cory was a little slower than I on the initial drinking. As I was becoming more impatient on the less than 3 hour flight, I ordered a round of screwdrivers to finish things off. After the third drink, I was starting to feel my buzz settling in.

The dude sleeping in front of me...

Rounds 1 & 2!

Game on.

Someone's falling behind...

One passenger with an iPad, one with a laptop. I want both.

I win! (?)

Oh, why not.

Cory with nuts on his chin. Nothing new there.

"Vegas....."

Soon enough we're landing, and it felt like the plane was fish-tailing a lot moments before touch down. In the end the plane didn't break apart, or erupt in flames, so we considered it a successful flight. We were actually about 20 minutes early. NICE!

On the way down the escalator we were hoping to have some extra time before meeting our limo driver. No such luck as Presidential Limousine was on top of things as usual. George awaited us with our requested sign reading "Johnny Depp." As we made small talk, George noted he had a few girls ask if he was waiting for the actual Johnny Depp. After the luggage pops up, George takes the lead and grabs both bags. We're on our way.

Once outside I throw my bag into the back of the limo as I have a few things to move around. Put some of my money away, transfer my ID, get the Aria Sky Suites key, etc. The "champagne" is opened and Cory pours our first glasses. We're on our way to the historical El Cortez casino downtown.

We've landed.

Thanks George!

Cory almost reluctantly accepts our champagne.

Yeah, that's the good stuff...

Surprise! Twist off cap!

Oh yeah, smooooth!

Nothing but the best.

Just because.

At least it was cold.

A shot from the highway.

A band of segway tourists I tried to snap a pic of. There were about ten of 'em.

Kickin' it.

Good morning to you too!

The Strat.

All gone...

Following the name on the sign conversation, we asked George what celebrities he might have had in his cab in the past. He said John Travolta is the nicest and down to earth guy he's met. Demi Moore is the largest drama queen, and Bruce Willis is "really nice, but just a strange guy." Oh, and Michael Jordon is the cheapest tipper he's encountered. (I've heard that before)

Upon pulling into the El Cortez station, I jump out of the cab and wander in to check our bags. There was a line of only three people at the check in desk, but the individual speaking to the one clerk working must have had some rather difficult questions. The line didn't move at all, but luckily a bellhop came around the corner. I dumped our now locked bags off with him and scurried back outside to the limo. Time to head to Imperial Palace for breakfast!

I think we actually went about five minutes past our allotted hour with George, but there was no mention of it upon our departure. A quick $40 tip and we're walking inside. We were quickly seated in Hash House a Go Go and we scanned over the early morning offerings. Between the uber-nutritious food at the Omaha airport, drinks on the plane, and "champagne," I really wasn't starving, but went for it anyway. I opted for the maple reduction fried chicken and eggs, while Cory went with the sage chicken fried steak. To accompany our food, I went with a premium bloody mary while Cory landed on trying out their banana latté.

Menu page 1.

Menu, page 2.

Tablescape.

An awesomely delicious bloody mary.

My maple chicken and eggs.

Cory's monstrously huge chicken fried steak.

Dig in!

Banana latte.

The food was fine. My chicken was sweet from the maple syrup and the eggs were just as good as any I've had before. The bed of potatoes under my chicken went untouched. I did sprinkle some pepper on some of the tomatoes, and maybe had one bite of the biscuit. I told Cory if he'd manage to eat his entire breakfast, I'd pick up the tab. He informed he me probably could....however the consequences of that action would likely come back later in the afternoon. In the end, Cory opted to pick up the tab and we made our way outside towards City Center.

We walked in through Bellagio and I got some updated pictures of the Conservatory.

Sad.

A little crowded, but not bad.

Pretty cool, yet simple.

Oooooh....

...and ahhhh

Snail.

Attack of the ants.

Middle walkway.

Nicely done.

On my final lap.

Parting shot towards the front.

And another.

As I was walking past Michael Mina I noticed a couple scanning over the menu. I quickly gave them my genuine recommendation of trying them out later that evening if they had the chance.

From here onward, we walked up to the Bellagio / Aria tram station and impatiently waited. Cory had still yet to see City Center, so Aria's shopping center (Crystals) was our stop. I'm almost embarrassed to say, but during my December stay, I never even went near Crystals, so the environment was still new to me.

Pretty quiet this time of morning.

Cory showing the love.

The track...interesting I know.

Aria at a glance.

More glass...

While we're wandering through Crystals, I stop to look at a few premium watches proudly on display at one of the various shops no one buys anything from. Seemingly from that point onward, we had a girl following us but she quickly dispersed once she likely realized we're not seriously looking to purchase a watch with a comma in the price tag (at least not today). A few frustrating minutes of wandering and we eventually locate the familiar casino.

Not more than two minutes on the property and we see an individual chatting it up with a dealer who had a nice large red N tattoo on his upper right arm. This was Bruce, who was also from Nebraska but works at Aria as one of the maintenance crew members. His main job was working with the lighting, but also was a jack of various trades. Small world. We pose for a quick picture and continue on our way.

Aerial view of Crystals shopping center at Aria.

Another overhead shot.

Cory having fun with the other kids in the area.

Oooh, and aaah....

Final parting shot.

Hi there...

Cory saying hello in his typical way.

If you see Bruce at Aria, tell him we say hi.

We continue our walk towards the Sky Suites lounge and then it hits. I neglected to get "my" key out of my luggage as I was transferring stuff around in the limo. I no longer have a free "in" to score some finger foods and more importantly the free early morning booze. Damn. I figure I have one last chance that perhaps "S" was guarding the Sky Suites area.

I did find "S" but instead of being by the Sky Suites lobby doors, he was watching over an entry way into a cashier cage by the Pai Gow tables. We chat with "S" for a few minutes and also drop BeeeJay's name out there. Then "S" really starts chatting with us. I mention how we were going to try to get into the Sky Suites area, but left my key in my luggage. Without really blinking, "S" reaches into his pocket and quickly hands me a spare key he had. I was a little taken aback, but very appreciative. We talk for a few minutes about various subjects, and shortly after "S" mentions he had some extra passes to a backstage meet and greet for the UFC event tonight. He said he had another guy interested in them, but would rather give them to us if he knew we'd use them. I thank him for his graciousness, and add his cell number to my contacts list. At this point in time, we don't know what our plans are going to be for the evening, so we left it open. We slipped "S" a $10 spot for being so cool with us, and we were on our way.

One trip around the corner and we're successfully in the Sky Suites lounge (thanks again S!). It was more crowded than the last time I had been in December. I noticed a lot of Ed Hardy wearing D-Bags in the area with the same idea as I - loading up on a drink before venturing out. Sure, I may be a douche bag now and then, but come on.....at least I don't wear Ed Hardy. To read a full installment regarding the scene now at the Aria Sky Suites, check out MikeE's review at Vegastripping.com here.

We chat it up with a couple standing near by and after receiving his business card, I learn this is Alex Noe, a photographer from New York. It wasn't difficult to steer the conversation towards the various tattoos he had covering his arms. We make our drinks, and Alex and I exchange a few "your mom" jokes at Cory's expense. Free drinks, and strangers bragging about how they railed Cory's mom...all within a few hours of landing...god, I love Vegas.

Grey Goose and diet cokes.

No fruit or cheese at the moment, just the sweet stuff for finger snacks.

Tatoo on Alex's arm.

We'll be back!

With our strong drinks in hand, we wander over towards the poker room. It's rather slow at the moment, so we opt to sign up for the 1:00 PM poker tournament. For a $120 buy in you get $8,000 in chips, and the blinds go up every thirty minutes. Not a bad deal by any means. But with those starting chips and levels, that means the tournament takes about six or seven hours until completion. It's all good. We still have plenty of time to kill.

Cory shows me how to easily turn $20 into $.10 with the push of a few buttons. It's like magic.

"Oh, this machine must be a winner."

Something tells me that's not a real smile.

Aria can keep the lights on for a few more minutes now, this month.

Time to cash that puppy out!

Cha.........ching.

While scanning over the action in the poker room, and between bathroom runs, we bump into a gorgeous cocktail server. I couldn't remember her name for the life of me, but of course had to get a picture with her. (I gave her the "teaser") Once I have a picture of my future ex-wife, we find that we still have plenty of time before the tournament starts out. Well, what to do....what to do...? Oh, I have an idea! Let's wander back to the Sky Suites and get some more free booze! EXCELLENT! What can go wrong with that?

Our potently created drinks are collected and we settle in for a few moments at a now vacant table in the lounge. I send BeeeJay, PNut and MikeE a few buzzed texts about my proud conquests thus far. BeeeJay asks me to see if I can find "S" and hand him a $20 for a bet he lost with him. We collect our stuff and wander out. The door is held open for us and we tip the guard on the way out. Cory opts to make another friend and asks for a picture with her. Why would she say no?

Eh, I'd give it to her...if she begged for it.

If you like poker, it's still cool everytime you see it.

Another drink, a water, and an apple!

Cory making friends.

I scan back over where we had previously met "S" but unfortunately he was no where to be found. I couldn't pay off BeeeJay's debt to him, so he'd have to make it happen another time.

We still had plenty of time before our tournament started, so we began talking to the poker room Manager about Phil Ivey's room. The room containing a single table where the big stakes are played. It's the equivalent to Bobby's Room at Bellagio, where only the highest stakes are played. We were actually able to have our conversation inside of Ivey's room. There were only three flat panel TV's built into the wall along one side. According to the Manager, they're going to be taking some input from Ivey to see how he wants the rest of the room to look. The room has it's own "secret" cashier cage seemingly hidden behind one wall on the left hand side. Nicely done. With some schmoozing we were able to secure a picture of Cory and I sitting at the table as if that'd ever happen for real. We'll see how the high players in the poker world react. I doubt they're going to steal many players from Bellagio, but time will tell.

One more random tourist shot (the pleaser) and we were on our way to settling in to our respective seats at the tournament. Cory and I were both at the same table.

The lowest rollers you'll ever see sitting in the Phil Ivey room at Aria.

Bathroom break, balancing act!

Some random dude who was cool enough to pose with us (the pleaser).

Aria poker chips being stacked out.

Nice new table and still clean chips.

It would have been spectacular if the Aria poker tournament started on time, but I guess advertising a 1:00 tournament but really beginning at 1:20 is somehow more convenient for everyone except the paying players.

I was playing more hands than usual, and trying to get some action started. I don't think the free drinks from the Sky Suites area offered me much restrain in that regard. From the beginning, I think everyone at the table knew I was an aggressive bluffer. It didn't take too long before I was in a tussle with Cory. The flop brought out two lovely queens which went nicely with the A-Q I held below. I moved all in, and was called down by Cory who held a slightly less impressive Q-10. My ace played and I was back into the game for a little bit.

But, Cory soon had his revenge when I held pocket eights and saw a flop of nothing but baby cards. In the end the flop never showed anything higher than a five with a pair of ducks and fives on the board. I thought my pair would be good, but in the end Cory held pocket tens.

I didn't last much longer and moved all in with a dismal K-6. I actually found middle pair on the flop bringing out 10-6-2. Of course my opponent had to have Ace-ten (I hate that damn hand) and I didn't find any cards that improved my hand on the turn or river. I was bounced.

So I did what any individual would do in that situation. Shook my opponent's hand, blatantly gave Cory the finger for reminding me of our longest lasting bet, and wandered off. I just strolled through Aria checking out the scenery before I found myself back at the Sky Suites lounge. I did happen to find some rather stunning Asian girls holding hands in my venture. I would have asked for a picture of them from the front, but didn't want to be a bother.

Over by Jean Philippe.

Someone's fantasy is coming true tonight.

Snacks.

Ever hear of pink cheese? Me neither!

I settled in at a blackjack table that had a friendly crowd seated. Four of the guys seated near first base were out at Aria in celebration of them all finally being 21. I over heard them talking about going to a strip club, but didn't know which one and the costs, etc. I snickered a little bit and engaged in the eloquent conversation of strippers, cheap booze, and shame. I filled them in that if they call any of the major strip club players in town, they'd gladly send a limo over for their party in addition to waiving the cover charges and likely a round of drinks free. They seemed genuinely interested in my tidbits of information, and I just kept spewing it out. From cabbies, limos, dancers, bouncers, I let them have it. I felt they were now better prepared for that nights activities. I hope they had a good time.

I venture back to the poker room to see how Cory's doing. He's still seated at the same table and has accumulated some chips. He lets me know that Jerry Yang is playing $2-$5 no limit a few tables over. I wander by on my way to the bathroom and sure enough, the former WSOP main event champion has about $500 in $5 chips on the table.

To kill more time I found myself playing at a Pai Gow poker table not too far away. On my right there were two friendly sisters from somewhere up around the north east killing time, and a fellow from California on my left. We were all betting the minimum with the player on my left betting $200 a hand. Things were going well and I actually made a slight profit that session. I'd wander off, grab an orange juice (and another drink) from the Sky Suites, check in on Cory, and come back to the table. I'd frequently buy the dragon for an additional bet, and that always seemed to produce the same result as my original hand. If I won from my first hand, typically my dragon bet would win as well. Either I was moving good, or crashing quickly. So, I was basically running in place. I do recall asking one of the ladies at the table if she wanted my un-opened orange juice. I attempted to assure them I didn't put any ruffies in it. Not sure why I did that....

Back in the poker room the tournament has dropped down to two tables with Cory still well in the running. He made some chips when he busted a player moving in with pocket tens. His ace queen found some help on the flop and one more player was out.

I did notice Jerry Yang was now around the $1,200 mark in chips in his cash game. Not a bad result for a few hours.

Not much longer Cory found a good flop bringing out queen high. He shoved his entire stack out there, and was called down by an opponent holding pocket queens. It was trip queens against a pair of queens with a king kicker. Cory was all but drawing dead, and was bounced from the tournament. I believe his final place was 15th, and the top 9 were paid.

Fast forward one cab ride and we're back at the El Cortez. We'd finally be able to check into our rooms.

We were resting our heads this time around at the El Cortez cabana suites on Ogden street. It's a simple walk across the street to the old Ogden House. There's a security guard on watch 24 hours a day outside, and you need key access to even get into the building. Once inside there's also a clerk / guard at the front desk. We quietly ride the elevator one flight after getting our bags and check into our respective rooms. I'm at the end of the hall in 6215 and Cory's a door down at 6211.

The staple room number picture.

As you enter.

The bed.

Nice TV, and snack area.

Entry into the bathroom.

The toilet (duh).

Shower.

Reading material for those that are interested.

The room was nice enough, but I didn't know what to make of the lime green walls. I didn't love it, but didn't despise it either. Not something I'd have in my house (well, maybe), but I couldn't make my mind up one way or the other. Plus the tacky plastic "headboard" added a flavor of some sort to the room. Overall, it was very "Miami Vice" themed. Oh well, it was a clean room for one person, so I'll take it.

We venture across the street to the El Cortez and settle in at the roulette table. Typically I'd just have my normal numbers covered. Every now and then I'd toss in some random number to see what happens. The chips were coming my way a little bit, so I was off to a good start. At one point I covered every corner of the 5, and then tossed a single chip on the 5 itself, and wouldn't ya know it..... I was paid nicely on that one. Cory would bet either a row or a section every now and then, and just to be a total dick, at the last minute I'd bet an opposite row or section. Nine times out of ten, who do you think was the winner? THIS guy! It was brutal. Cory couldn't find any love. Even when we'd have a bet on the same row or section, just before the dealer waved off any further bets, I'd dart my hand out there, grab my chips and move them to a different (winning) section. Oh man, it was harsh. Sorry man!

During one visit from the cocktail waitress I asked if I could get a rum and diet "with a little more kick?" I gave her $3 during my spiel and she took the bait. She gave me the run down of how they typically can't do that sort of thing, but "this time" she'd make sure our next round was a little stronger than normal. That was nice of her.

There were a few betting rounds where we had stipulations. We'd bet a spin where we could only bet on five numbers, but two of them had to be the zero's. IE, you're only able to pick three additional numbers. Or we'd try the "shotgun" betting system. Where you randomly throw out a few chips and your bet is where they land, be it straight up, splits, or what have you. It was fun, but I think I came out on the better end of things that session.

Mr. "I can't win an outside bet" decided he'd like to toss some dice around for a while. I reluctantly bought in as well. Craps is a game that just makes me nervous. Yeah, if you get on a hot streak you're going in the right direction quickly. However it just seems to be my luck that I'll put money out on a few numbers, back up the point with odds, JUST to have a seven out on the next roll. This session started off the same way. There wasn't much happening in the way of "positive money." I was reduced to about half of my initial buy-in when I decided to move over to one of their carney blackjack games.

I bought in for $50 and was just playing as if it were a normal blackjack table. Yeah, I saw that there was some sort of "dealer bonus" or "royal match" optional bets or whatever they were, but I was just playing one bet. The Karma from the craps table followed me and I started slowly losing my chips to the dealer. I was down to my last $15 when I was just pissed, so I bet it all. It won. I put my winning chips out and pressed it. My now $30 bet won. I did the same, and with my $60 sitting in the middle of the betting circle -AND.... was dealt a blackjack. I realized my unfortunate mistake of playing this stupid carney game when she only paid me even money. I colored up and left with a small profit. I had made my money back (and a little bit more) from the craps table, so I was happy.

It was at this point that Cory and I decided we'd try out the Flame steakhouse. We've read mixed reviews, but we were each given $25 food and dining credit with our offers, so we figured it won't be that bad of a deal.

We were seated without any sort of hesitation. The restaurant wasn't very busy at the moment and maybe had half a dozen tables being used. I was starving at the moment and my stomach wanted to try out a few different things. All the alcohol throughout the day had caught up to me, so I was really looking forward to wolfing down a few glasses of ice water.

.....Apparently that's not high up on the list of things to initially take care of for new dining guests. Our server (I'll call her "Flo") walked by in a haste, but did manage to tell us she'd be right back. Okay, fine. Flo didn't return for the next several minutes, so instead we just spent our time dehydrating and reviewing the menu. Flo finally did come back (perhaps she was lost), but neglected to remember we still haven't been served water yet. She took our glasses away from the table and disappeared. A few moments later she came back (surprisingly) with some ice waters. I think I finished mine before she had the chance to walk away. Did I get a refill? Na. Who wants water in the dessert, anyway?

My ravaging hunger wasn't getting any better, so when Flo did manage to find the time to offer to take our orders, I just let loose. I ordered a "garbage salad," the Steak Diane, and a round of oysters on the half shell. Cory just went for the prime rib. There was a lot of seafood on the menu, but that didn't sound appeasing at the moment (other than the oysters).

My salad makes its way out and it's basically inhaled. I still don't have a water refill, but I have something to occupy my time. It could do without the kalamata olives, but other than that it was basically a vegetable salad. Not bad. The oysters come out, and at first I notice how very small they were. I was expecting a little bit larger, but maybe that's just what I'm used to seeing. The champagne flavored sauce that accompanied it was alright. It had a strong vinegar taste to it, so it certainly could use some balancing. Cory wouldn't touch 'em, so I had the appetizer to myself. After the first two, I got bored and just put two to three on the fork at once after a little drenching of lemon. Another over priced food item done in record time.

The steak and prime rib came out shortly after, and I think my empty water glass sitting on the edge of the table finally got some recognition. In fairness I only saw two servers working, but for six (now five) tables, I think that'd be sufficient. I'm just glad we didn't order wine or mixed drinks. Who knows how that would have turned out. I'd probably still be sitting there.

My steak reminded me of that Salisbury Steak TV dinner from the late 80's. No, I'm not being insanely unjust in my writings, it was JUST like that. Plus, the presentation was about the same as well. I was disappointed, but being as hungry as I was, I consumed every last bite. I even used some of the bread to mop up some of that lovely TV dinner sauce. Cory didn't have much to say about his prime rib, one way or the other. I think we both left less than impressed.

I had the waitress charge $25 to Cory's room and the rest to mine. I wasn't expecting Michael Mina, CraftSteak, or Joel Robuchon levels of service, but for crying out loud....water.......it's the most basic thing that shouldn't be neglected during a diner's "experience." Come on now.... I'm not sure if I ended up over tipping Flo or not. I'm pretty sure I did. I won't be back. Perhaps if the meal is free, but even then there are a lot of other options in the area that I'd be more than willing to pay for.

I really don't think you guys should be discriminating. You need all the customers you can get.

Menu page 1.

Menu page 2.

Bread. Hard bread.....

El Cortez Flame, "Garbage Salad"

Oysters on the half shell.

Gone in less than 60 seconds.

"Steak Diane." Yeah.........

Cory's prime rib.

We venture out side and just start soaking it in. I was hoping to collect a few cool people pictures tonight. Fremont street was starting to pick up and I was pleasantly surprised to see a decent crowd.

The first opportunity I spot is someone being interviewed by "K-Arl" (Karl? Carl?) on Fremont street, with a decent sized portion of the overhead canopy displaying what's going on. I had no inkling as to what he as saying (selling?) but in any case, I filp on the camera and tell Cory to take a picture when the time was right. I venture right up to the guy with the microphone in his face and just tilt my head as if I'm interested. "K-Arl" asks him "Is this a buddy of yours?" The guy holding his half finished 60 ounce foot ball turns towards me, then back to K-Arl and says "I've never seen this dude before in my life." That was my queue to just nod, and walk off without saying a single word to either of them. I was hoping Cory had gotten the shot, so I could say I photo-bombed Fremont street.

I managed to get a (shocker) picture with some random dude playing a guitar. I don't even think he was asking for tips, just having a good time. Come to think of it, I wouldn't be surprised if he were a tourist.

Not long after that I managed to get a (spocker) picture with a show girl. She reminded me that she's working for tips. I acknowledged her, but as soon as the flash went off, I turned my back and continued on my way.

We also ran into Elvis and a late 80's / early 90's version of Michael Jackson taking pictures with tourists in front of someone standing in a make shift "Welcome to Las Vegas" sign. These characters have infested downtown in addition to the strip. (sigh)

I figured it'd be too good of an opportunity to pass up, so I slipped "Elvis" a single and inquired about a picture. He said pics are $5 each. I blatantly laughed in his face, and asked for my dollar back. One less dollar in his pocket. Maybe if he was the real Elvis....

At some point, I accepted someone's last "Are you a good person" flyer. I'm sure they were somewhere near the "don't go to hell" people that try to scare you into whatever religion they're preaching that night. I tucked it into my pocket for later reading material.

Does this count as a Fremont photo bomb?

I think it does....

Hell to the Yeah! (shocker)

I got your tip right here... (spocker)

Oh it's a funny comic....

Photo bombing the "don't go to Hell" people.

Shortly after the Fremont Street experience started up. Tonight it was to Queen's "We Will Rock You." Not a bad set by any means. I got plenty of pictures of it before we ended our trek after Mermaids and started back towards the El Cortez.

A side note, on the way out Cory mentioned how it was nice that downtown doesn't have all the typical "bull shit" the strip does. Like the people asking for $5 for a picture of them dressed as Elvis (ahem), and the strip club pass hawkers. Well, we ran into one of those as well. He had his limo parked and ready to go just before you cross Main Street. I didn't think he'd be able to park there at that intersection, but he made it work. Seems they've all found they're way downtown.

The beginning.

We will.....!

We WILL.....!

ROCK YOU!

Nicely done.

Finishing up.

One last pic.

In any case, Cory and I were heading back to the El Cortez. I'm not sure of the exact hour, but it was still relatively early by Vegas time. We stopped at one vendor selling beer, and opted for a few tall pours of Miller Lite. I'm not sure why, they were seemingly the worst beers we've ever purchased. The bar tender was rather gifted in the chest area, so I had to ask for a picture. That's when Cory snapped the little gem below:

We make our way back to the hotel, and we both land at "that point." Meaning, it's early enough in the evening to still have time to do something you'd like to, but your buzz is wearing off, and it's either go balls out, or go to bed. We kill some time at the near by slot machines, but in the end, I decided to call it a night. I wasn't in the mood to get obliterated, and thought getting some early sleep would help me recover from the jet lag. I unfortunately wasn't able to coordinate any meeting time or place that worked out with BeeeJay's schedule and my own.

I wander back to the room and crash. I had the air conditioning set to around 50 (since that's as low as it would go) and the room was nice and chilled when I walked in. The AC unit would kick on and off every few minutes and it was rather loud at certain points. However, it didn't matter for long as I was able to doze off with no problem. Seems tomorrow would be an early day for Vegas and us.