Felix and Oscar.
Garfield and Odie. Eminem and Elton John. Chris Tucker and Jackie Chan. Mel Gibson and Danny Glover. Odd couples…everyone loves em. I got a chance to witness some real life odd couple action this weekend while in Las Vegas.
Senior Dips: My beloved cousin. Sometime during his transition between high school and college my cousin went from being something of a shy loner, to an outrageous player. He’s got no fear when it comes to approaching women, and he loves to talk about the philosophy that gives him such courage. “I feel sorry for them when they’re not interested. I really do man. I feel bad for them…they’ve got problems.” Recently Senior Dips moved to Vegas and the rest of us couldn’t be happier for him Rarely does a place and a person come together so nicely.
Mike G: My roommate. Mike G is quiet and shy. He’s kind and thoughtful and soft-spoken. He’s a good guy, but you can easily loose track of him in a big group. Since I’ve known him he’s become more and more extroverted and social….but he’s still a long way from Senior Dips. Senior Dips (by the way) LOVES hangin out with MikeG.
So I was very excited to see my cousin and my roommate interact against the glitzy backdrop of sin city. My number one priority for this trip was to get the three of us to a strip club. We pulled into OG’s at around 11:30pm…probably just a little before “primetime” and it showed a bit in the quality of the initial dancers who came to our table. In fact The second dancer was something of a nightmare…
A quick aside: I’ve been to a strip club on a number of occasions. It’s not generally my first choice of things to do…but it can be fun with a good group of people. I generally am a little conflicted when I walk into one of these establishments. Pangs of liberal guilt mingle with genuine excitement and the sort of thrill that comes along with doing something slightly seedy. So for me, anything that disrupts the actual “fantasy” of the club and forces me to realize exactly what I’m doing and where I am is bad. One such thing, is ugly dancers. Dancers like the second one who came to our table.
The fiction is supposed to go like this: I’m an irresistible dude, and the stripper is the hot chick who is so overcome with desire, that she can can’t help but writhe and grind in my general direction. The passing of money from me to her is a slight but easily overlooked distraction to the whole thing. When the ugly dancer prances on stage, the whole illusion is dispelled. If she’s not the hot chick, than maybe I’m not the irresistible sex-magnet I thought I was. Maybe I’m just a pathetic pervert, too cheap to throw this woman a dollar bill, and too lazy to pretend to like her. She’s supposed to pretend to like ME…does it have to go both ways?
Anyhow…I was saved from having to deal with that mess thanks to a timely phone call from my buddy Iwan (Thanks buddy!). It was a good thing he called because “the ugly one” apparently started calling people out (including Mike G) for not wanting her around (and not giving her any money). The rest of the S-club experience was entirely positive though. I got a big kick out of watching my roommate in that “fish out of water” experience. I later got a bit of a reprimand from him though when he said (slightly annoyed), “You know I’ve been to a strip club before.”
“How many times?” I asked.
“Once.”
Meanwhile my cousin had positioned himself at the table so that he was sitting right next to the small set of stairs that the dancers used to get on and off the stage. Not a dancer (save for the ugly one) escaped a small conversation with Senior Dips as they swept up their tips and bits of clothing. I don’t think he got any phone numbers but that doesn’t mean he didn’t try.
It would have been a moot point anyway since he would have only sought them out to see if he could get them. He happens to be dating a nice young lady who I met the following day. The fact that he was somewhat spoken for didn’t stop him from approaching all sorts of PYT’s as we cruised around Vegas. He simply approached them all on my behalf. It was a lot of fun. Senior Dips did all the hard parts (making the initial contact) and then would just pass ‘em off to me. I’m not sure if this actually came across well to the women we talked to…if it did, it didn’t show.
The standard opening line went, “Hi there, have you met my cousin yet?” (The yet part I found particularly amusing). For my part I played along as best I could. One girl was a cocktail waitress, who was friendly but busy. Another girl reacted with a mixture of confusion and terror – She ended up running away while my cousin called after her, “Where are you goin!? You should come party with us!” But the women we got the furthest with was probably the scariest.
A striking, waifish blond (who later identified herself as “Nikayla”), looking lost, wandering through the casino. Her eyes lit up when asked if she wanted to party with us, “Yeah! You guys have some drugs?”
(long pause)
“Because I really want to do some ecstasy.” She continued earnestly.
We couldn’t help her, and something about her whole story didn’t ring true. Let’s add it up:
-Hot girl
-Alone in Vegas
-In town to model for Prada
-Just wants to party with some ecstasy
-Lost
-From a small Midwestern town.
She didn’t dress sluty, but something told me that if we ended up in a hotel room with her we’d eventually be facing down a pimp lookin’ for a couple hundred dollars. I never got a chance to find out though. After using my cell phone to place a couple of fruitless calls to the mysterious “Tony”, she walked off responding to my cousin’s pleas for party time with, “Sorry!”
Ahhh….good times. I wish I had a little more of my cousin’s moxie. I don’t even think it comes down to confidence, it’s not like he feels he could or should score with every girl he talks to…he just doesn’t care what they say, unless they say “yes”. It’s more like apathy really.
Other than that, the trip was filled with great food, and great wine (thanks to my pops) and a relaxing Sunday spent at the sports book. It was one of the best Vegas trips I’ve had and I didn’t even gamble that much -- Just a few parlays for the Sunday games (I won one and lost two…grossing about 15 bucks).
-B
Labels: Family, Travel
