Mine ended with a whimper--Christmas night was business as usual, except with a touch of sadness knowing that the cocktail waitresses would be hanging up their naughty Santa's helper outfits for another eleven months once the night ended. We were much busier than the night before, and I'm fairly certain we made better money (we made crap on Christmas Eve). But it was a friend of mine's birthday, so a bunch of us took off an hour early and went out for a few drinks. Actually, it was me and four gals I work with--which made for quite a scene when we rolled into the bar.
Yep, I am The Christmas Pimp.
We had a good time, a lot of laughs, and the bartender thanked me for bringing in a lively crowd--I guess he ended up making good money that night.
I got home around 6:30 in the morning and slept until noon, waking up to my cell phone ringing. It was George and Marlisha calling, and we decided to meet up for breakfast the Peppermill an hour later. So I jumped in the shower, got dressed, and drove down to the Strip.
They'd already gotten a table with our favorite waitress, Sandra, serving us. Of course I had to take another run at the chicken fried steak and eggs, as did Marlisha, while George had something he called the 'garbage plate', which was pretty much every breakfast food available all mixed up in a skillet. They already had cocktails, so I was playing catch-up and ordered a tall coffee and Kahlua.
Breakfast was excellent, if unfinishable, and we had a lot of laughs while catching up on all the latest news. They were kind enough to bring me a nice Christmas gift, which I understood was to be a tin full of 'Buckeyes', but since I disparaged them in an earlier post, Marlisha put the brakes on that... So instead they gave me a bottle of Pyrate Rum (oh HELL yeah!) and a pirate's head decorative decanter. Talk about a gift that has 'Mikey' written all over it...
I think they might know me a little too well.
Anyhow, after breakfast, we retired back to our favorite booth in the Fireside Lounge, where we kept Krista busy mixing chocolate martinis. We also lit up some fine Cuban cigars from George's personal stash and spent the afternoon laughing it up and slowly catching a good buzz. After a few rounds of martinis, we decided to Man Up and ordered a couple of Manhattans. That did it, and after that we were in no shape to drive.
Luckily Marlisha had switched to bottled water, so she volunteered to be our chauffeur.
After about four hours in the lounge, we paid our tab and headed downtown to the Golden Nugget. The casino renovation is finally complete, and I have to admit, I was very impressed. So impressed that I posted a long review over at the Travel2Vegas messageboard earlier this morning.
So we wandered around for a bit taking in the sights and drooling over the gigantic lobsters on display at Vic & Anthony's. Marlisha decided to go play some cards, so she headed off to the High Limit room for some $50 blackjack while George and I went out to the pool area to smoke a couple more cigars and congratulate ourselves for being masters of the universe.
George's host stopped by to chat for a bit and told us that we were all set for dinner at The Grotto, which was especially nice since they weren't even staying at the hotel this trip. But it was a nice evening so we sat out there lounging by the pool under the propane heaters for about an hour before Marlisha came to get us.
Dinner was excellent, and we ate until we were stuffed. It was after 9 pm by the time we got out of there, so we decided to call it a night. We headed out towards the parking garage across from the south tower entrance, but George told me and Marlisha to wait down on the sidewalk and he'd get the car and then come fetch us. So we were standing around outside the parking garage exit, and decided that a little Vegas-style buffoonery was in order.
We were standing next to a fire hydrant right there on the corner, so every time a car drove by, we would stand around it palms down, acting like we were warming our hands over a fire. We'd blow on them, rub them together, and then act like we were getting warmed up. It looked so ridiculously stupid, but so funny at the same time that we couldn't help but crack up. And every time a car would drive by, they'd hit the brakes and do a double take. We really got a kick out of that, but I think Marlisha about peed her pants when I started singing Swing Low Sweet Chariot... But George finally showed up, and we saw him drive up with a WTF? look on his face and was so distracted that he accidentally drove over the curb!
I opened the car door and the first thing he said was Is that fire hydrant heated or something? And with that we had our best laugh of the day.
We drove back to the Peppermill to fetch my truck, and we did a little bit of horse-trading amongst each other's cigar collections. He got a rare one that I'd managed to acquire some time ago which he'd been looking for, along with a Partagas Maduro, while I got another Cuban and a Fuente Fuente Opus X that's harder to find than Jimmy Hoffa. We both came away happy, so it's nice to have friends who share the same passion for fine cigars.
We said our goodbyes with plans to meet up again soon, and I drove home, exhausted. It'd been a long day at the end of a very long week, and I hit the sack as soon as I got my shoes off.
But it was a great day.
Mikey
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