Fear and Drunkenness in Vegas (part 1)

PART ONE: the Vegas Curse

There are many kinds of drunken attitudes. When people drink and get inebriated, inhibitions drop and they become something else. There are happy drunks that like to hug. There are lonely drunks that'll call you at 4am to tell you. "I love ya, man...". There are stumbling drunks that just pass out and you can then write rude things on them with a magic marker.

This is a story of an annoyingly stupid drunk.

My first trip to Las Vegas was with my workers at Pizzamania when I was 22. We paid for two days three nights for gamblin' and, well, just gamblin'. We all flew in already with a few drinks in us from the flight. I don't drink much becuase I become the most uninteresting drunk, the bypass-drunk. I just get a headache and hangover instantly. If I socially drink, it's two margeritas, three tops.

So, we land we land in Vegas, and we get our roommates for our suites at the Excalabur. Mine is a co-worker named Doug, a large-ish surfer looking dude with a Metalica/Motorhead fetish. And we go off for a day of losing hard earned cash. But this isn't a tale of slots and blackjack..It's a tale about drunkenness...

We get to our rooms at midnight after being up and active since 5am. My boss, Bill gets the bright idea that we should go to a Dance club called the Shark Club he was told about by a cab driver. I don't dance, and I'm very shy, but the others convince me I should go and try to have a good time. So we pile into a cab and off we go to a building at the end of the strip with a giant neon shark and tons of cabs with patrons piling out into the loud music arena.

So, I sit at the bar and watch from there, and I probably look as pathetic and out of place as I feel. The others are drinking and dancing like white guys. Every now and then they go back to the bar and order a drink, as does Doug...You remember him, right? Before they finish the drinks, they go back out to dance some more with the hot chicks when the muse takes them. But Doug is very thirsty, and he sees no problem just finishing the drinks that the others abandoned. I see this happening quite a bit, and the others see this, and decide to play a trick on him, they start ordering stronger, bigger, and more drinks to leave behind, knowing that Doug has never been drunk before in his life. Teach him a lesson, as it were...

Dougs a big guy. He was a big thirst. And he's now downing 5 shot glasses each time. He's getting loud and drunk, as he marching in place on the dance floor out of synch and yelling at the top of his lungs, "WoooOOOOOOOoooooooo!!!!"

How did he get so smashed and not know it? Then I see. Each time he want back out to the dance floor, he passes by other tables, each with half empty drinks. Abandoned drinks. On the last pass, he swallows a shallow liquid and then spits out the cigarettes that was crushed in it. Then continues to finish the glass. The Barkeep asks if that we take him home now, as he's cut off, and we see him lapping up a spilt drink on the bar counter.

Guess which one of us is sober enough for this task?

"Mike, you gotta take Doug back to the hotel."

So I grab Doug by the meaty arm. "Time to go, Doug..."

"with a slurred cackle, "NO! NO! Thirsty. wanna dance s'more!"

"So we spin in circles as he attempts to stumble out onto the dance floor and I whirl him towards the exit. All the while sucking out the liquid of any glass nearby. Even those who's owners are still at the table. With a hefty yank, I get his 280 lbs carcass to the foyer before anyone takes a poke at him. He probably wouldn't feel it right now anyway.

I see the taxi lines up ahead! It's almost over! Doug whispers in a breath that could peel paint, that he has to go pee, so I shove him into the bathroom, after he says he can do this alone.
Five minutes later, he being escorted out by two guys. His pants are around his ankles.

"...Are you Mike?" one of them says. I nod, thinking perhaps I should have lied .

"Your friend here, fell in the trough" Doug looks wet and starts to slurringly cackle-laugh again.

I should have lied, we're not even home yet...

(end of part one)

Van Ride of Purgatory

Yesterday, I got a ride home from some people that I work with. I'm lucky enough to have people willing to do this on my lite night shifts. Sharri, one of my favorite persons and an aunt-ly like figure to me, was driving, and Kevin...er...just Kevin...needed a ride home.

So I'm riding shotgun in Sharri's van with Kevin in the back. We're talking things and Kevin starts to relate a time at this very intersection that he saw a woman on a motorcycle cross on the red and slam into a truck side. Nothing wrong with this tale. What was starting to get wrong...was he was evolving his speech into...baby talk.

Let me explain.

Both Sharri and Kevin sometimes "evolve" their speaking patterns into a baby like syntax. Sharri does it trying to be cute, and it sorta is. Kevin does it trying to be gay, which is unnecessary because he has already achieved that. Now, he's not "screaming" or "flaming" gay, just gay, but you don't have to baby talk on everything.

We're not talking about a "goo-goo, gah-gah" like thing. Or even I high pitched voice. Just the evolution of an adult conversation, transforming into a 2 year old. Where words like "here" become "hee-wha", and "there" becomes "deah-wa".

Imagine a speaker at a podium doing this: "...so by examining the bar graph of sales over productivity, we can acheive a proper stance by gow-win ohvah deah-wa and saying 'no-no' to da ouchy..." No change to tone. Just reversion.

So back to the van. Kevin starts his tale "this woman starts to go against the red light, and I thought, 'oh no...dere gonna be a widdow accideeeent'. and she go and go 'boom' on da twuck...". I sit there dumbstruck for a moment thinking, what the hell just happened? I look to my hands to see if I've reverted to my preschool state, as I watch too much sci-fi. I focus on Kevin, not knowing if a piece of my brain misfired and sent me some weird audiology.

Then Sharri chimed in. "uh ohhhh, was she bewing naughty? I bet she didn't feewha vewry good den..." Oh my god! There's probably an airborne virus doing this! Sharri's fallen under and i'm probably next. I claw at the door window controls.

"yeah, dere was de rwed light and she go and vroom thwoow and get hit wit de twuck. And I thought 'oooooh, thwea gonna be a angwee laaaaady, she gonna suuuuue...'. " At this point I realize the air is okay, but they've both been rendered insane anyway. Surely, this will stop.

It didn't, and they talked like this, back and forth, for the entire 14 mile drive. My hand was tightening on the door handle. Perhaps I could open the door and roll out when we slow down at a corner. If I tuck and roll, and aim for a gutter, I might make it. It was too late to change my mind and walk home now. They're starting to mention "ouchy's".

What the hell did I just go through?

Children are Lying Little Bastards

Yes, they are, and I stand by that!

Everyone says that children are so precious and innocent, they don't know how to lie. Well, snap out of your dream bubble, because, brother, do they...and know how manipulate people as well.

It seems children gain this skill at an early age, and start to lose it around the 8 years of age range. Right from birth, they start to test everyone. Test limitations. Test what they can do to get what they want. Morals? Fugetabout it! From right out of the birth canal, they start to cry. Crying gets them something. Then the amazing human brain makes it's first idea: If I create the right stimuli, I can get whatever I want! Cry for a bottle. Cry for attention. Cry if your hungry. Parents think their baby is just wanting to be loved. Not exactly, it's just wanting. I've known parents who come at the ebbing of a childs cry, and that baby will cry non-stop for a parent to rush into a room, hold them, feed them, etc These are also the same children that are still breast feeding in their teens. I've also know parents who will ignore the babys selfish demands, and the baby will eventually sleep soundly.

I know some may still think, an innocent baby cant be devious.

I witnessed a baby at a store in a cart. The baby was quiet until he saw something he wanted, then the sound of a shreeking child permiates the air: the mom immediatly gives the baby what he wanted...and he stops crying...until he sees something else he wants. I also saw the baby look around for his mom before he started up. No sense wasting a good scream if it doesnt get you anything.

Need more proof?

I was once working in a toy store, and I enter an aisle with a small child there. This child is unattended and tearing into a package. He sees me, and after a look of guilt, quietly and without fuss, hands me over the package without me asking anything! He knew what he did was wrong, and he was caught. I said thank you to him...I was also being set up.

The parents come about the corner and the child sees them...and SCREAMS bloodly murder at the top of his lungs! Mouth totally unhinged! Spittle flying everywhere. His parents ask whats wrong, did someone do something to you? And what does this "innocent" child who doesnt know the meaning of lying do?

He points to me. Crying like I killed his puppy.

His dad rips the package out of hands and hands that, and a few other things to calm the child and bitches me out! This gentle lad cons his parents and makes me ther fall guy in one swoop! He of course, gets a bunch of toys and forgets he's supposed to continute crying instead of being happy about his devious plan, but the parents are oblivious...just like he planned.

Need more?

Another job. Fred Meyers, I was watching a child of 6 with a video game in his hand start to wander out of the securety area calling "Mom? Mom?" Like his mother vanished and he's looking for her now. He walks behind a clothing rack and then I see him pull out a Target bag from his pants and place the game in that! The evil genius! He's like the pre-Dr. Doom! Well played, my tiny friend, well played!

That reminds me of a story Bill Cosby told about his daughter. Children lie like a cheap rug naturally. He once told his daughter that she cant have any cookies on the top cabinet. He sees her go to the cabinet when she thinks he isn't looking, grab a chair, and climb up to stick her hand in the cookie jar:

Bill: What are you doing young lady?!
Daughter: (hand in jar) ...nothing...
Bill: What did I just tell you?!
Daughter: You said I cant have a cookie...
Bill: Whats that cookie doing in your hand then?
Daughter: (long pause, think think think) ............I got it for you....
Bill: I don't want a cookie.
Daughter: ...Well then can I have it?

What does this prove? Lying is human nature, honesty is learned and worked for. Thats why I charish my honest relationships of friends. they've aquired the skill that separated them from the evils that men do, seemingly from birth.

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

(another cartoon title reference!)

Jeez, last weekend was hot. Around 105 in some areas, and dry enough to cure jerky.

it was time for a haircut, in my humble opinion. My hair grows like wildfire if kept unchecked. I think it's either a trait within my family or an odd chromosome defect. I cut my own hair for two reasons: I'm cheap, $20 bucks for a haircut that would take all of 10 minutes and 12 snips is a crime! They should charge by the minute or weight of hair removed. And, being artistic, I can do it myself quite well, usually. I've even cut other peoples hair. After all, it's just sculpting with a sharp device.

Anyway, it was an exceedingly hot day, and my hair was in need of a good bitch slapping. I was so exhausted from the heat sapping my energy and my various illnesses (work being one ;), I stumble into the bathroom and get my haircutting gear out.

CAUTION: CHILDREN, DO NOT ALTER YOUR APPEARANCE IF DROWSY!

I thought I'd start from the side with the thinning attachment on the electric cutter. One arm move late, I felt a lot cooler! Then my mind seizes up and literally shocks me fully awake as my eyes spot something on the counter top: the thinning attachment. I look at the electric shears and see a bare blade with quite a lot of hair about the edge. So I swallow a huge psychsomatic lump, and look in the mirror...and find that the side of my head is a two inch racing stripe of bare white skin framed by dark brown hair. I look liked someone took some duck tape and ripped a section of hair off of my head.

In mere microseconds, my mind races from perhaps reapplying the hair back in with a hot glue gun, to using a black magic marker. All stupid ideas. And I feel even more stupid for not being more alert. And I double that feeling by reminding myself, i've actually done this exact thing before, just not this bad. Man, my head feels weird...

So, I call Kim to come down to try to "fix" it. I don't know how you can "fix" the absence of hair, but i'll try anything right now. And she owes me, as I cut off 10 inches of her hair to send to cancer children, and then fixed the length afterword. I did an artistically masterful job, an absolutely no one noticed! It also helped she had about a yards worth of hair to begin with.

So she arrives, and I sort of hide the side of my head to her. She askes if I can turn my head so she can see. I first make her promise NOT to laugh, and turn my head.

She's lousy with promises. And very loud when she brakes them.

I make her sit in another room untill she can control herself and catch her breath without the aid of an inhailer, while I stew angrily.

Twenty minutes later she reappears trying not to laugh and eyes watering. I send her off for another five.

Afterwards, Kims assessing my hair (thank god she can cut hair), and telling me stuff like, "Why did you do it?", "I can't beleive you did this again...", and "you should have checked the shaver before you used it". Gee, thanks. Lets get to the Wayback machine and try those theories out!

So, the only thing she could do to "fix it". was to go shorter and shave the sides. I guess I'm lucky I didn't first cut from ear to ear over the top. I actually like it now, as I haven't had my hair this short since I was 20. It was tricky though, as my head is a morass of scars from all the head traumas i've suffered over the years since childhood. I guess that explains a lot, huh?

And when I went back to work a few days later, most of the hair grew back in so I didn't look like I was assulted by a rogue barber gang at a busstop. It's quite nice, and no one really noticed other than I got a short haircut.

Except my dumbass assistant manager, the ear muffed bald pate Chris.

"Hey, Mike! Looks like you had you're hair cut! Now you look like me! he he..."

I winced at the comparison and stared back at him with a tired anger.

"No, we don't, Chris. My hair loss was an option..."

Cybering and...YOU!

Once upon a time, the internet was made only of the magical fairie ether-realm called AOL. And this magical land of AOL, which was ruler of all internet gumption, had a dark, dark underworld that bred a river of decite and gluttany. Where everyone was compelled to be someone other that what society proclaimed what was "acceptable in mixed company"

The AOL chatrooms of the 90's. Yes, I was one of those neophyte "World Wide Web" users that know of the internet world through AOL only. We didn't know that we were living vicariously though someone elses backyard. This was an era where you bought books that gave you http addresses to find things like where to buy a hat. And that book had a "hats" chapter.

My error was going to the AOL chatrooms for some interesting conversation. Never have i've seen a collection of egotistical, crass, immature, childish, users who took revenge on their petty lives by trying to be someone else online, usually someone you'd never want to know in real life. Unpleasant misfits from all walks of life.

Here was a few simple things I found out from those times:

1. Never talk to anyone who says (types) one of the following:
"Hello to all the lovely ladies out there..."... Next step is to find someone to cyber with...

"@-\--/--- for all the ladies..." Nothing says "commitment and trust" like a hastingly typed "and" symbol, some dashes and slashes freshly cut from your garden of love...

"Age/Sex check..." I hate this one. I know what i am, why do i need to check every couple of minutes?

"anyone wanna cyber?"...See?

2. Avoid anyone using "gangsta talk", i just reads silly... :
"Wassup ladies", "Whassup sluts", "da partyboy has arrived!" ...I swear to god, I always get a kick out of infantile chatters who start beating their chest and threaten you this way ..,. "dont yo be diss'n me! Me an my homies is gonna comon over and bust a cap in yo ass!" Bwah-HA-hahh-HAA!!!

3. Everyone claims to be any of the following professions in a chatroom:
Fireman, Marine, Police Officer, Proffesional surfer, Stripper or Dancer...
Common "professions": Student, unemployed, paper delevery, magic card collector, McDonalds fry supervisor, loner, outcast... never seemingly chat online.

4. NeVeR TaLk To AnYoNe WhO's pRoFiLe iS tYpEd LiKe ThIs:
This is just annoying and only anyone under 6 still thinks this is cute. Or use "U' and "R" instead of "you are".

And, I don't think real women would choose a name like, "BiggJuggs" or "Sexy4U".

Then, you get the same question over and over if a chatter even THINKS you're a female, "Wanna Cyber?". What is "Cybering"? Thats when a chatter male tries to get a chatter female to go into a private room, and type/pretent to have sex. It's like phone-sex, but both callers have no idea what sex is really about. I can imagine that if someone did ever do this, when you get towards the end, there would be a long pause till someone asks, "er...so...we done here, or..". Maybe it is like the real thing...

Back then, I wanted to get an example of the so called "Cybering", but from a female perspective, since the males were the predetor here. So I created a name that wasn't sexual in any way, but was female. I would identify myself as an educated female by my profile with no sexual terms or suggestiveness, and I "spoke" with intellegence, not the cyber-bimbo. Wanted to see if a female online would get some respect as simply someone who chats...

Y'know, it didn't matter! I had to turn off paging and private messaging just to talk in a chatroom! "Do you want to go to a private room?" I got TONS of requests as soon as "ARCHASHLEY" showed her head. It was like chasing dogs off the back of a meat wagon!

Below is the true adventures of ArchAshley.

No names have been changed to protect anyone... (the language might be harsh here, be forwarned.) And yes, you can see my annoyance with everyone there. Try to guess what a real female would feel like all the time, just wanting to chat and thats it!
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Ps9994: any hot p***y want some action
ArchAshley: PS9994 seems like a p***y to me....
____________________________________________________
Shagy169: ANY BITCHES WANT TO FUCK
Shagy169: I'm a real man
ArchAshley: ....and?
ArchAshley: so am I! are you naked?
ArchAshley: hello?
(deathly silence)
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SGJOEKERR: hi sexxie t*** how are you?
ArchAshley: deathly ill after the spinal menagitis. lost some muscle in my vertabre SGJOEKERR: lol
ArchAshley: i don't think that it's funny!
ArchAshley: do you like laughing at other peoples pain?
SGJOEKERR: lol..you are kidding..you gotta be
ArchAshley: what makes you think i'm kidding?!
(deathly silence)
____________________________________________________
G Bullet77: are you really 36
ArchAshley: nope.
ArchAshley: 23
G Bullet77: 23 is my lucky #
ArchAshley: or 17+ 6
ArchAshley: or 28 - 5
G Bullet77: math major
ArchAshley: or 6 x 4 -1
G Bullet77: age/sex/loc?
ArchAshley: or 3rd prime number + 12 x 2 - 13
G Bullet77: you talkin or multiplin
G Bullet77: hello to all the ladies in the room
ArchAshley: or square root of a natural sine / 68 + difference between F and C degrees till Absolute 0 is reached
___________________________________________________
Baseb11111: want to go to private room 27/m
ArchAshley: why?
Baseb11111: to cyber
ArchAshley: okay...
Baseb11111: think u can handle me
ArchAshley: i said "okay", dumbass.
___________________________________________________
OnlineHost: OnlineHost: *** You are in "Baseb11111 Chat70". ***

OnlineHost:
ArchAshley: okay. we're here...
Baseb11111: hey baby
Baseb11111: u have a pic
ArchAshley: "hey baby? you have pic?" this is not cybering...
Baseb11111: well i want to know what i am going to fuck first
ArchAshley: I'm guessing from your sweet talk, usually your closed fist...
Baseb11111: i am going to fuck u all night long
ArchAshley: you've never done this before, have you...
Baseb11111: nope can u help me out
ArchAshley: oh god! an amature!
ArchAshley: "think u can handle me"...jesus!
Baseb11111: take advantage of me then
ArchAshley: Where did you learn that line?
ArchAshley: you can't just go at it like a dog humping a table leg...
Baseb11111: the question is can u handle 10.5 inches of rock hard dick inside u all night long
ArchAshley: sure I could, but then, what will you be doing?
Baseb11111: u like it in the ass
ArchAshley: did you actually measure yourself?!
Baseb11111: nope ex did
ArchAshley: and don't give me the ex-girlfriend routine...
Baseb11111: ook
ArchAshley: no girl would ever take out a tape measure...
(long pause)
ArchAshley: you measured yourself, huh...
Baseb11111: sure
ArchAshley: jeez, there are other hobbies, y'know!
Baseb11111: i am sure u will like it
ArchAshley: how do you know, psychic friend?
OnlineHost: Baseb11111 has left the room.
ArchAshley: hello?
ArchAshley: Hehehe......
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