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.