my twenty one entry

so it goes, all entries prior it has been illegal for me to sit drunk in front of the computer and write, yet now it is perfectly legal. but… I’m not drunk. at all, even. and even, while hopping from bar2bar in las vegas my buzz was barely there. though I tried, hardfelt even, for the cliche twenty one drunkeness to fill my body and then exit out in the form of cheap cafe food vomit, I sported a healthy sobriety for most of the night. lame, I know.

in my defense, vegas was not all it was cracked up to be. I have been to las vegas too many times to count. I grew up in a city about an hour and twenty minutes away so there were days when we would cut school and drive there to ride the newyork newyork roller coaster until we couldnt see. I remember a different version of vegas than I saw this time, more colors and toys and less wasted people and bums.

but, whatever.

the first night was monday. we stopped in bullhead, my aforementioned growing up town, to spend the evening with sacha’s family and ring in my twenty first year at midnight. the girlfriend’s mom presented me with a pork taco dinner and a cookies and cream ice cream cake along with a bag of gifts, a whole aray of events I wasnt at all expecting. they sang me happy birthday and I drank rolling rock and talked to the girlfriend’s brother about his child on the way. we sat around a cramped dining room table and the girlfriends family along with a couple of old high school buddies and myself smoked so much fucking pot I couldnt really move. eventually the girlfriends brother and mother and others faded off into bed and myself and the three high school buddies took a shot at midnight, a catalyst into my descent into alcoholism.

we went to an empty bar on the river and sang cake’s cover of ‘i will survive’ and played drunken darts. I got a free grey goose and soda and later we went to Denny’s for a night cap. though, in all honesty, being in the parking lot of the bar is the last thing I remember. I completely blacked out the food I ate at denny’s or how I got home and onto the mattress on the floor.

vegas, I must say, though I hate to, was not the success I had hoped for. the room we had purchased was located at the circus circus casino, the cheapest casino on the strip. our room was fucking shady, located in a building completely seperate from the casino, up a floor, and between two other seedy buildings. my friend brandon, whom I had been looking forward to seeing, did not show up that night. I had been talking to him all day and the last thing he said was that he was on his way… and I never heard from him, and he never called, and I was worried for a good portion of the night he had died or something. the outfit I had brought to wear was not working out, to tight, along with shoes and a giant zit that had arose next to my nose. when I finally did find clothes I was semicomfortable in, I couldnt find my ID.

we looked, we called the front desk, we retraced our steps. I cried. as I was sitting near the wall in our room, pissed and defeated at the outcome of everything thus far, the girlfriend found it wrapped in a shirt of hers, obviously it had fallen out of my pocket and got entangled during our earlier sexcapade.

we met a few vegas friends at the circus circus bar. high school chums from bullhead who now resided in vegas. four to be exact, who proved to be fun and knowing in our search for something to do.

while I did want to get drunk and crazy, the bar scene, while appealing in a sense of infinate liquor, was not appealing as far as fucking money.

in vegas, everything is fucking money. money here, money there, lose money, win money, costs a loooot of fucking money. two bombers at a bar was 25 dollars and I didnt even want to go into the coyote ugly bar due to the dumb looking crowd and insaaaane drink prices and cover charge.

we settled at an irish pub type dealy with a live band at the new york new york. by this time I had had three long island iced teas and a gross ass coyote ugly foo foo drink so when the band played ‘blister in the sun’ me and my crowd partook in a free for all dance that made me happy to be twenty one in vegas, for the first time since we had arrived.

we ended the night, naturally, at a strip club near our hotel. many hours passed in this strip club and the chicks were hot in that stripper kind of way. met one called Chloe, and talked to her for a while before she tried to hustle me into a twnety dollar lap dance. soon, our friends disapeared into cabs home and the girlfriend and I made the treck back to our room. it was six, maybe seven and we changed into comfortable clothes and went down to the pink pony cafe where the girlfriend got a disgusting plate of chicken parmasian and I ordered a burger. she threw it up later, but I, still not as drunk as I had hoped, slipped into a sleep and didnt awake until three the next day.

we went to ceaser’s palace and played video poker for a while. gambling is fucking a waste of time and money. I dont at all see the excitement in it, especially the slot machines. push a button, watch it spin, push a button, watch it spin, and you never ever ever ever fucking win. we didnt lose much money though, broke even for the most part. dueces wile on video poker is kind of addicting but not when you only have five bucks to play.

we had dinner reservations at 6:30 at an asian infused eclectic place off the strip that the girlfriend was horribley excited about. we ordered tastey apps and tsing taos and left feeling full and happy. we went back to our room and suited up in warm clothes and walking shoes before we popped a pill and a half of ecstacy each and started down the strip for the trip of our liiife.

being on E when your walking down the vegas strip is fucking mind bending. the lights and the music and the stampedes of hipster asians and wasted frat boys will give you this wrenching, visceral experience that I would bet could never be recreated. up the sky walks and escelators and passed the fifty foot tv screens and flashing lights we ended up near a live band passed the paris casino and we made out a little in public. I felt good all over, on drugs and on vacation. I went to the bathroom and inside the stall and felt things dripping into me. looking back, I’m sure it was the ecstacy coming up to it’s peak, but at the time I thought it was more spiritual, more monumental that at that moment, being twenty one in las vegas is something I would never ever forget.

by the time we had walked the length of the strip we were a little beat. I forced the girlfriend to go on top of the stratosphere where we watched the people screaming on the rides and the lights and the noise of the town faded away. we were starting to come down from our roll and our bodies, still hung over from the night before and drained from the miles we walked, were ready to sit at a bar and get drunk. we found a little bar at the circus circus and we ordered vodka sodas and then a few vodka gimlets. at that point we realized we couldnt fucking afford to get drunk at a bar, so we found a liquor store at three in the morning and bought a bottle of vodka and some energy drinks. we went back to the room and had great fucking conversations until we both, without warning, fell asleep fully clothed around six in the morning.

I don’t k