Wednesday, September 14, 2005

Drunk by nine

The match sizzled and popped as I pushed it toward my last smoke. Menthols, always menthols. I streched and squinted, arms reaching for the answers. While shading my eyes I took a nice long drag. "We're not doing too bad." I thought as I looked around. The strip club was closing and we were greating the sun. "Whats the plan now?" I asked, knowing full well that we still had a minimun of 6 hours before early checkin. Blank stares. The sun shown down. It wasn't hot yet, but any idiot could tell it would be soon. We needed to be somewhere. Anywhere would do, just not the stoop of a strip club. Rays of light exposing it's true color. What moments earlier looked like a glimmering pink castle was quickly truning into a run down, sleezy shanty as the sun cast it's oddly sobering glow across the desert. I was sober, the adderoll had worn off, and I was smoking my last P-funk. It was time to go.

"Whats the plan?'' I repeated, not wanting to make a decision, wanting someone else to make up my mind for me. It had worked so well last night.

Crickets. Well, not crickets, i don't think they live in the desert. The las vegas equvalent of crickets, traffic. The sound of cars rushing by, busy, rushing to get to their destination, bitter that they were off to work on a friday morning and we were busy stumbling from the mouth of a strip club.

Corry wanted to go back to the hotel. Ryan wanted to get drunk. Schad eccoed both their sentiments. So that was the plan, go back to the hotel, and drink untill we could check in, or until something better came along. But first Corry had to pee. We walked. Why waste cab fair in broad day light. The hotel wasn't that far, just in the worst part of vegas. Not the worst, we would find that out later, but not the glits and glamour of the strip, expecially at this ungodly hour. On the way we stopped at the nearest 7-11.

bing, the door chimed as we walked through. A rush of cool air blew hair from my face. Everything in vegas is airconditioned. This is the real genius. Everywhere there is AC there is gambling, this 7-11 not excluded; and it's so fuckin hot in the desert you have to seek shelter. Brilliant. Truly brilliant.

I sat at a video poker machine, just staring at the games it offered. They make little, if any, since. All I understand is that if I put in money, and press the right buttons at the right time, they give me money back, but most of the time, they just keep the money I feed them. My Left hand slinks into my pocket. I fish, out it comes, empty. Damn strippers. Right hand. I fish. Sweet, one dollar. Thats all i need, two trys. I push buttons a few times and the lights keep flashing. I must be doing something right. Corry returns.

"That was fast." I say, barely listening to myself as the game took over my brain.

"No public restrooms." is the grumble i heard from somewhere behind me.

I won. Not big, but I was up. I cashed out my five dollars and quickly gave it back to the man behind the counter. P-funk Menthol ultra lights, got to keep the party rockin.

"Lets bounce before Corry wets himself" and I motioned to the door.

I checked my cell, it was 620 am. This was going to be a long day.

A few blocks and under the freeway and we were back where we started, the entrance of the hotel. "Hey look!" said Schad, "there is another 7-11 right next door." Now what I wondered? With no plan and no leader we wandered. Amilessly. Lights flashed everywhere. The noise of the casino was like the ocean, rhythmic, powerful. Beautuful and scary at the same time. The sounds seemed to come from some where specific and everywhere at once. I quickly lost twenty bucks while explaining craps to the boys. They understood what they needed to know. The lesson was, don't bet on Big 6 and Big 8, and the casino will take your money anyway. At least I got a $20 vodka tonic out of the deal.

More wandering finds us glassy eyed at the pool. I was comming down hard. Crash was inevitable and all I wanted was a nap. That wouldn't happen till at least noon. The only other thing to do was drink heavily and avoid the crash. I sipped my twenty dollar vodka tonic. I confirmed with the group. Booze was the answer. The four of us sat at a table by the pool, staring at each other, contemplating the events that would unfold over the next 72 hrs. Las Vegas was our oyster and we haden't even cracked the shell.

Saturday, September 10, 2005

What happens in Vegas...

It was ten till 4am when the car came to a hault in the parking structure of the Palace Station. Being a Thursday evening, Friday morning, there wasn't much traffic at this off the beaten path casion. We parked, steped out of the truck and streched. Four better than average looking college men, dressed comfortably, eyes blood-shot from the Aderol, hot Las Vegas air, and 8 hour drive moved towards the casion door. The weekend was young and so we're we. Anticipation made me sweat more than the sicky thick air of the city.
The casion was dead. Big suprise. The only people that gamble at this ungodly hour, especially at this place, are depraved sickos. Our kind of people, we'd be joining them in nights to come. Hastily we pushed through the casino, still fuel by anphetamines and eager to participate in the degredation of Sin City.
As expected the loby was a bust. Our earliest option for check in was noon. At best we were eight hours from a bed, well, a bed we could call our own for the weekend. We were always close to a strangers bed. Stepping back into the steaming hot night Corry flaged a cab. The only cab. A portly hispanic man sat snuggly behind the wheel of a van taxi. My party situated it's self and with a thick spanish accent the cabbie asked "Where too guys."

"The strip" I answered matter-of-factly. And a grumble of approval came from the boys.

"A strip club?" repeated the cab driver.

Wide eyes with huge pupiles darted around the cab begging to see naked women. We all knew where we wanted to go, and we all knew where we should go. We started to talk it out. The strip or a strip club? It was 4:15 am on a friday. What was realy going on at the strip? We couldn't go to a club beacuse two of our boys were under 21. We could just walk and gawk. See the lights, kill time. Check in, then start blowing money. Or we could see some snatch. Maybe there are girls on the strip, we could go to their hotel. Party with girls with out the inconvience of a bouncer snorting hot fire as you toe the line between stripper and call girl.

The cab came to a hault. An executive decision had been made with out our knowlage. Our drive, Jose, decided for us. As we opened the door the lights of Little Darlings turned everything around us a not so subtle shade of pink. The cab glowed as if it too was producing the pink hue. More than deciding for us, come to find out, Jose had decided for him self. He didn't want to take his last fares to the strip, too much work. He killed the meter and came in with us. I knew he would get a kick back from our cover, they all do. I think Ryan knew it too, but the underagers, I don't think they knew. This act of benefecince would be rewarded, regardless of my partys nievity. Jose was getting a lap dance and we no doubt paid for it. Good for him.

I like Las Vegas for many reasons, and many of them are always on display at the titty bars. One of the better reason, at least in my humble opinion, to like Vegas is that the insides of gentlemens clubs smell just like the outside. The entire city smells like smoke, booze, and sex. Just like any good strip club. I guess "good" is relative.

The bar tender had tatoos on his arms. The bartenders arms were covered in tatoos. The bartenders tatoos begain at his wrist and like the sleeve of an amazingly detailed shirt wove up his forarms and disappeared just past his elbows, where his actual shirt was cuffed. Cuffed but not pressed. It draped on him mostly covered by the vest and bow tie he also sported. Not that this was any classy joint, the tat's clearly prevented that, but it made me think, "Hey, this place isn't so bad, at least they are trying." He was a big man, not fat, just big, and solid. He could be an extra in Roadhouse. What was so odd is that he was clearly of asian decent. That in itself is not odd, but when combined with his sheer mass, impressivly thugish tatoos, and choice of employ, it seemed funny to me. We exchanged basic pleasentries, I collected my four sodas and quickly went to sit where ever the group had assigned me. I was not disappointed to find a seat available directly at the end of the stage with my name on it. Time to see some gash even if I have to pay for it.

I set my dollar in front and time and time again it was removed with out so much as a whisper. No "howdy cowboy," or "thanks Daddy." Nothing. Was I misunderstanding how things worked? Wasn't I paying for affection from a naked girl? I didn't care. The girls got naked in front of me, at this moment, thats all I needed. They knew it too. I was going to keep giving them money and they were going to keep taking it. That was the plan for the night. Corry however, was obviously reading a different book than me. The strippers we practicaly crawling all over him. No, the strippers were literally crawling all over him. I sat there watching as he grinned like a fat kid at Baskin-Robbins. Singles in hand he enticed girl after girl to hypnotize him with their body. He oozed charm. The girls smelled something on him. I know it wasn't money, or if it was, they were wrong. All of us were dirt poor and about to overspend as much as possible. It was his eyes. He watched them. He watched their eyes. They were like deer in headlights. Drawn to him, compeled to give him their affection. Corry knew. He was only 18 and could drop a stripper at 50 yards. We all knew how to do it, but Corry did it, and he did it consistantly. Maybe I'm jaded, maybe it's old age. I stopped looking strippers in the eyes a while ago. I've dated too many. I don't have any plans to date more. The last thing I need is to charm a stripper into stealing money I don't have. I was getting what I paid for, naked girls. Corry wanted more and he had sway. I began to think he was going to have bruises on his face from all the titties that were being smashed into it that night. But he was happy. All of us are happy. That is all that matters. Then the lap dances came a calling.

Sunday, September 04, 2005

It's my birthday bitches!!!

Well it's been a crazy few weeks with many a story to blog. I'm back to the same ol' same, working my Sunday shift and wasting time on the net. The good news is TODAY's MY BIRTHDAY!!! yeah. I actually made it to twenty three and haven't exploded, melted, been crushed, drowned, hanged, shot, mamed or generally harmed by myself or others in any directly apparent way. Cool. God knows I tried. lol. There will be a few blogs after this recounting some of my more recent efforts. And for now, the birthday blog.

Things that I have accomplished in the last year that I'm happy with:
(the order of events only reflects my warped perception and not any importance)

Ended a long term disfunctional relationship, a grew from the expierence. I love / have loved many people but this was the most intense. Almost two years. A big big step for me. Previous records we're at most 6 months. I learned a lot about myself and about how I deal with many relationship type situations. I think I have a better idea of the type of things that are important to me in a relationship and what things I thought were important but are actually just crap. lol. Baby steps.

Got a new car. I've been good and I've kept it clean and haven't jap'ed it out. I'm going to put my subs in but I already had them, they aren't a new purchase. Good job not spening money jake!

I've developed a very very green thumb. Insert pot joke here. In all actuallity I've discovered a hobby that gets me out side and relaxes me, not always an easy feat. I'm facinated w/ hydroponics and have been developing my own systems for a fraction of the price that they sell for on Ebay or at the hydroponics stores. I feel so handy when I make them and its a great way to learn about wires, plumbing etc.

I've held down the same job for a year and I'm not bored with it. I'm happy with my job, it's not something that I want to do forever but the flexibility and the money make it the most perfect college job I could think of. And i get to learn about cool cars with out getting greasy.

I joined and then became the president of NORML at UCSB. I've become a major player in the group and I'm helping develop and grow the organization. It took a few years of me playing with different campus organizations before I found one that I like. I like the people, and I like the cause. It's easy to get involved and I feel like I'm doing something good. In other clubs, greek organizations for example, I didn't always feel that connected to a cause. The goal was always got fucked up. Fun but not a focus in my life. Although there is a fair amount of substance use involved with the club, there is at the very least a cause to rally behind. What one does with the cause is up to the individual. I, being a person inclinded to take advantage of resources, have been trying to get our agenda passed and get as involved as I can. I have developed and begun implamenting a plan to do more community service and philanthropy, developed a system to grow the organization nationally, pushed for local legislation, and smoked a lot of the good stuff. When I leave, I plan on NORML being the largest club on campus, and taking lots of money from AS.

I've grown much closer to my family. This is a big deal to me. My brother an I have been talking more regularly, mom and I have been talkin lots more, and Dad and I rock out when ever possible. I've recently been lucky enough to have some new additions to the family. Step-mom Susan, her parents the Justice's, and Uncle Rod and Aunt Faye. All wonderful people and all welcomed additions to my life. It's so nice to feel like one is apart of something larger. And southern life suites me well.

I've started re-cultivating my love of politics. I've been activly contacting my legislatures and expressing my views. Specifically I've recieved letters back from Barbara Boxer and Diane Feinstein regarding the replacement of Sandra O'Conner to the supreme court. Although I'm cognative enough to know that my efforts may not amount to anything it does feel nice to be involved and I like being current on political happenings.

I'm constantly revamping my life plans, and I'm following through on most of them. I will be famous, exactly what capacity I'm not sure but I've been making myself available to and taking every oppertunity to advance this plan. I've been an actor in both plays, short films, and comercials, a model for artists and photographers, I've been developing my singing voice and trying to improve my chances of being "discovered." Workin hard to get what I want.

There are more things that I'm proud of accomplishing, these are just ones that jump to mind. I may or may not add to the list in the future.

Big plans for 23!!!

First and foremost I plan on graduating. It's been a long time comming. Some days I'm more ready than others, and I'm sure I'm going to have some emotional issues regarding it as the date gets closer but for now, I need to get this done. I am just postponing the inevitable and I'm ready to move on with my life. I've outgrown the college scene believe it or not. Time to take the next step.

I'm attempting to found a not for profit organization that will provide direcet disaster relief to college students from college students. Inspired by aid efforts surrounding hurricane Katrina, I want to help fellow college students. Who knows the needs of college students better than their peers. We (college students) have more to offer than we think and I've made it a personal goal to cultivate that knowlage and put it to good use. I think this is a great way to help those in need that will be in a good position to help in the future. I think college students are the core of future managment in the US and they will be an invaluable tool in the future. This is one more step to being well connected and making a difference. I will keep posting as things develop.

Make a decision about where I want to live after I graduate. Like so many of my goals for this next year it is very dependent on my graduating. I think graduating is a solid goal and realy everything else is excess, it's a lot to deal with. It will no doubt work it's self out well, but it's something I'm looking into.

I'm going to get a motorcycle and I'm learning to ride. I have a scooter and I'm trying to get it up and running. I've got friends that are going to teach me to ride and by 24 I will be rockin two wheels. With gas prices the way they are, and motorcycles being as cool as they are, I know this is going to happen soon.

Visit Matt in Taiwan and travel more. I need to get out of this damn country for a little perspective and I've been spending too much money on crap, it's time that i see the world.

I would like to continue to work on my weight and body. I know this sounds like a rediculous thing being as thin as I am, however, because of the career path I've decided to travel down this is and will always be an issue. My body is directly connected to my 'image'. I'm happy with myself but there are things that I could do to make myself more marketable and make myself more "attractive" by the industry standard. I would like to gain 10 lbs, and have more developed muscles in my upper body. Doable I just need to actually work on it. With dance being pretty much over I can focus on gaining w/o fighting the cadio daily. I would like to be a 32 waist and ripped by my next birthday.

Well, I think these are some healthy goals for the next year. I'm a firm believer in setting realalistic goals. Too many people set rediculous standards for them selves when it comes to New Years. I like to concentrate on the obtainable. Set real goals and follow through with them. These things will be done by my next birthday.