Back to Vegas
My cab driver to JFK airport turned around and said, "I know you."
Alas, he's not a fan of my blog. He used to be a delivery driver from a pizza place I used to order from at least once a week. Because he thought that he knew me, meant to him that he could engage in idle chit-chat.
I fuckin' hate idle chit-chat, especially from cabbies. I was in a weird mood, a combination of exhausted and sad. I always go through a slight stage of melancholy whenever I leave a place I really like. I wanted to stare out and look at all the skyscrapers and the lights on the office buildings and zone out. My driver wouldn't let me. He played techno-sitar music from India and he kept bitching about the traffic. You know you have a bad cabbie when he's complaining about the traffic. That's like a fisherman bitchin' about the smell.
The woman sitting next to me on my flight was smoking hot. Angela Basset hot. And she was a stripper too. She lied and said she did something else... MAW (model-actress-whatever). That whatever part was stripping. She asked me what I did for a living.
"I produce adult films."
She smiled and handed me her business card. It wasn't much of a card. It was a plain white card and has a pair of lips on it. The only text was her stripper name and an email address.
Oh... and her stripper name? Pinot.
I flew Jetblue to Las Vegas since it's the official airline of the Tao of Pauly. You know you fly an airline too much when the hagged out flight attendants recognize you and know what you want to drink without asking. JetBlue has TVs which is necessary on a 5+ hour flight. I watched the WPT Tournament of Champions II, VH1's one hit wonders, and Naomi Watts get interviewed on Conan O'Brien. I'd sever my left nut to play "hide the salami" for 35 seconds with Naomi. Brandt and Daddy have to pay $100 if they wanna watch.
I never check luggage. It's a suckers bet like insurance in blackjack. Checking bags is extremely -ev. But this time, I had a lot of crap to take with me. Lucky for me, my bag was one of the first to come out. At the rental car counter, they didn't have my reservation number in the system. That's when I told them I was a "Fast Break" elite member. They quickly ushered me outside to a shuttle bus. The driver dropped me off five feet from my rental car and I tipped him $5. That was the fastest rental car pick up in my life.
I drove over to Grubby's to pick him up. We headed to Balboa for dinner. It's located in the mall just outside of Green Valley Ranch andit's five minutes away from chez Grubby. I ate sausage and mushroom thin crust pizza and Maui Waui frieds with a spicy horseradish tartar sauce. I lost my first prop bet of the trip. Last time I arrived in Vegas in October, we were hitting on a cute waitress at Balboa. I bet Grubby $1 that she'd be there. She wasn't.
"It's never a good sign when you lose your first bet in Las Vegas," Grubby reminded me.
I did a double or nothing bet. The debate was the seats on Jetblue planes. Grubby said that the seats in the front of the plane had more legroom. I said it was the back. We just checked online and I was right. We're now even with prop bets and I've only been in Vegas less than two hours.
So it's a little past 1am. Time for some tourist poker and strip clubs!