Oh yeah, on Friday before heading to work. I got in early and signed my name at the top of the Early Out list, hoping to punch out around midnight and go hang with my women-folk. Unfortunately, we were so busy that night, that even though I was the second one in line for the early out, I didn't get pushed until 2am. Ugh. As soon as I got off the casino floor, I checked my messages, and one was a drunken call from Angy saying they were all done for the night and heading back to their rooms and sleeping it off.
So I stopped at Chilly's for a beer, alone, and just went home and went to bed, a little pissed off that I took off early from work for no reason. Turns out that we made almost $200 apiece that night, unfortunately, I only got a 75% share of that...
I was so tired though that when I got to bed I crashed hard and slept like I was in a coma. I forgot to turn on my alarm clock, and I awoke to my cellphone ringing at 12:30--it was Angy reminding me that the wedding started an hour and a half later, downtown, and that I still had to come pick her up.
Oh shiat!
So I showered, shaved, and got dressed as quickly as I could and was out the door a half hour later. Knowing that we couldn't show up empty-handed, I stopped and got a gift bag together, filling it with a couple of bottles of nice wine (the stuff at eye-level, not the stuff down on the bottom shelf...), a couple of good cigars, and a card. Then it was off to the Imperial Palace where I found Angy doing her best 'working-girl' impersonation by standing on the side of the road and waiting to get picked up. Apparently, I was the only one who stopped, this time...
But we made it down to the Graceland Chapel with several minutes to spare and we hung around outside waiting for the earlier wedding to clear the chapel so that we could go in. Clearly Elvis was doing a brisk business this weekend. But the bride and groom, Marlisha and George, cleaned up pretty well, and George had the foresight to bring along some Elvis-style sunglasses and mutton-chops to class up the ceremony. I'm sure his parents were very proud.
Before long the party moved from the parking lot to the chapel, and they asked me to be an official witness, so I had to put my paw print on their marriage license. I guess it's official now...
The chapel was small, but nicely appointed. After a few minutes of taking care of paperwork and such, the ceremony began. George took his place down front, while two different Elvi bounded through a side door. The young postage-stamp Elvis took his place at the pulpit, while the older jumpsuit-Elvis walked Marlisha down the aisle playing his guitar and singing Love Me Tender.
An actual minister made an appearance and there were traditional vows exchanged, but with the added twist of The Kings singing a song or two in the middle of the ceremony. After the rings were exchanged and the deed was done, they broke into a medley of great Elvis tunes and there was lots of singing and dancing in the aisles, along with the happy couple helping out with the vocals.
It was a great time, leading Angy to say that it was the best wedding she'd ever been to. She also said "Hey, we should do this..."
I was like... Uh, what?
She said it would be fun for us to do a fake 'renewal of vows ceremony' just for shiats and giggles, take pictures, post 'em and freak people out. But I had to remind her that she already had a husband--a different dude altogether, who at the moment was parked at a slot machine somewhere in town and probably wouldn't appreciate the humor.
But I was a little freaked out, so mission accomplished there, Angy. Actually, it wasn't that bad--we had a lot of laughs just talking about it, but of course I agreed that if I ever found a gal that would put up with my shiat for more than a couple of weeks, we'd go the Elvis-wedding route here in Vegas. That seemed to satisfy her...
After the ceremony ended, the party migrated down to the Golden Nugget for the reception. They'd gotten a meeting room set up and had a catered party for all of the guests. With an open bar. Uh oh. Actually, it was mostly all family, and Angy and I were on our best behavior, so it didn't get too far out of hand. But the party was actually very nice. Beside the open bar, there was a carving station and an hors d'oeuvre buffet featuring some excellent finger food.
We lingered there for quite awhile, meeting new people, having a few drinks, telling some stories, and sampling all of the good food. There was even a damn good wedding cake and a champagne toast to round out the afternoon, but sadly there was no DJ, so the Hokey Pokey was denied.
Once the reception wrapped up, I said goodbye to Angy and she went off to find her real husband, while a few of us headed off to the 'bridal suite' to continue the party with cigars and rum. We hung out there for far too long having a lot of laughs, but ended up downstairs at one of the bars in the casino. I was able to stick around until 7:15, but then I had to haul ass to the other side of town and be to work at 8:00. I would've made it, too, but the valet at the Golden Nugget is almost as slow as the valet at the Rio. But I got there eventually and did my eight hours at the tables.
I was so worn out from all of the partying and working that I literally slept all day on Sunday. I seriously didn't get out of bed all day until I went to work. No Pai Gow that night--I spent the entire shift at the dice tables, but I was the cooler--wiping everyone out and closing down two of the three tables I was on.
Monday morning arrived much too early and I was wide awake at 7:30. I just kicked around the house until noon or so, called George, and we agreed to meet at the Fireside Lounge at the Peppermill for some more stogies and cocktails.
I got there a little early, but sadly my girl Krista was on vacation--I haven't seen her in over a month, so it was quite a downer, especially after seeing her quoted in the Review-Journal last week. But the substitute bartender was nice, and also easy on the eyes. While waiting, I ordered a Corona and ran twenty bucks through the video poker machine, turning it into thirty and getting my beer for free.
George and Marlisha finally showed up after fighting Strip traffic and such, and we moved the party to one of the hideaway booths in the back. We broke out the good cigars and ordered a round or two of chocolate martinis, and proceeded to relax for a couple of hours just hanging out.
Eventually, we decided that we were getting pretty hungry, so we wanted to get some lunch. Marlisha threw out the idea of Cuban food at the Florida cafe, and since it's been on my list of places to try, I was all over it. They, being from Florida in their past lives, miss the good Cuban food so she didn't need to work very hard to sell George on the idea, either.
The Florida Cafe has advertisements all over town at what seems like every bus stop, but it's kind of off the beaten tourist path. It's north of the Stratosphere on LV Boulevard, just before you get to the 'safe' touristy part of downtown. Hey, all the best ethnic restaurants are in dangerous neighborhoods, right?
The restaurant is much bigger than it looks from the outside, and it's actually attached to a Howard Johnson's motel. The first order of business once we got a table was to order mojitos. And these were a damn fine version--even better than the ones I've had at the Havana Club down in Cozumel. I could lay in a hammock and drink them all day long given half the chance. But there were no hammocks readily available, so we ordered some appetizers instead.
Marlisha is an expert on Cuban cuisine, so she ordered a plate full of fried yucca root with garlic sauce and I ordered some ham croquettes. While waiting we nibbled on the fantastic warm buttered Cuban bread. Both appetizers were very good, but the yucca root thingies were pretty damn interesting. Much heavier than french fries, but basically the same flavor. Except that the mildly-spicy garlic sauce that was drizzled all over them gave them a fantastic zip. Unfortunately, they were so rich that you could only eat a few without filling up. And we had traditional Cuban sandwiches on the way.
The sandwiches were also excellent--steaming hot pork with cheese and pickles, smashed flat on grilled Cuban bread. As good as it was, I think that the Cuban sandwich I had at Kahunaville several weeks ago was actually a little bit better. But I had no complaints whatsoever about the Florida Cafe--food, service, and ambiance were all very good. And the prices weren't too bad, either.
After that, I was just dead on my feet. All of the rich food, the cocktails, and lack of sleep the night before was starting to catch up with me. About the same time, George got a call from one of the other guys in the wedding party, his old college roommate Justice. They were supposed to already be on a plane back to Florida at the time, but he'd gotten so sick that he'd gone to the hospital and was bedridden back at the Nugget. So we said our goodbyes out in the parking lot--they went to check on Justice while I headed back to the house for a quick nap before another long night at the tables. They were leaving for home the next morning, so we wouldn't be able to get together again before they left.
But it was a great weekend all around. I got to spend some time goofing off with Angy, we got to see a rather unique wedding ceremony, and of course I love just chillin' out with George and Marlisha--they're great friends and we always have a good time together.
And the buffoonery continues today, as I'm having lunch at Commander's Palace with Scott and Alice Lee. Afterwards, it's likely that we'll visit the cigar lounge next door to the restaurant for some more relaxation therapy.
It's a tough gig sometimes, but I gotta do it.
Mikey
No comments:
Post a Comment