Friday, August 20, 2010

Vegas Baby, uh, Vegas….

I just returned from an anticipated trite Las Vegas Bachelor Party. It ended up a little better than I expected, the cabana at the Hard Rock Pool was nice, the VIP access to the clubs was fine, but the expense of the inserting myself into douche bag central, was still not my first choice for a weekend trip. You see I used to live on the West Coast when I was in my 20s and we would go to Vegas from time to time, that rolled in with work trips puts my total trips to Vegas some where north of 30. If I never went there again I would be fine. When I was single and in my 20s it was tolerable in a large group of friends, but it was never my first choice on any list of places to go. In light of my most return from Sin City, here is one of my best memories. And remember, like of one my friends said to me, what happens in Vegas, STAYS BURNED IN YOUR PSYCHE FOREVER.

This particular memory of Vegas was in fact when we were leaving. There was a group of 6 of us flying back to San Francisco on Southwest. The Las Vegas airport is one of the worst laid out, slowest moving airports in the world. It is common knowledge that you have to get to the airport much earlier than at other places because the security line resembles the trail of a 1,000 tears and after the weekends most of these people had, they would have probably switched with the Indians at that point. Anyway, knowing this we decide not to risk it and get there a few hours in advance of the flight. In the first lucky break of that weekend, we breeze through security and now have hours to kill, so we head to the bar. After our umpteenth pitcher of Miller Lite, we stumble over to the gate. True to form the Southwest flight was late, so we started making runs to get more beer. At some point, let’s call this kid Mark (mainly because that was his name), lays down and finally succumbs to the sweet relief of sleep. 10 minutes into his beauty rest the plane pulls up. We decide not to wake him up and get on the plane, much to the amusement of our fellow passengers. Once boarded and a small amount of guilt is starting to set in, our hero gets on the plane to a hearty round of applause. After the appropriate amount of fuck you’s thrown our way, we settle in for the one-hour flight. For those that don’t know Southwest heards people on planes like cattle and once inside it is a free-for-all. Two of us get separated from our group and find a row with two attractive girls sitting in it. We snuggle in next to them, a nice little pairing of boy-girl and boy-girl across the aisle from each other. Right after take off my friend informs me quietly across the aisle that he can take the fastest shit known to man and he asks me to time him. So when one of the girls asks me what we were talking about, I hesitate and finally say, this kid brags about how fast he can jerk off on a plane and he asked me to time him, something about the cabin air makes him really horny. I tell her she should do it and she agrees. A few minutes later my buddy walks out and right on queue she announces “4:37 seconds”. My buddy, pissed off says, “you told her?” I said, not exactly. When the girl asked him why he would brag about doing “that” so fast, it lead to this little exchange:

“That is really only meant for guys to know”
“That is a little gay don’t you think”
“How is that gay? I bet you can’t do it that fast”
“One, I would never do that on a plane and two why would I want to see how fast I could do it”
“Why are girls so up tight about doing it public, if I have the urge, I will do it any where”
“You are total pervert”
“Pervert what the Hell are you talking about”
“This conversation is over”
“Wait, I said it was never meant for you to hear”
“FYI, your friend doesn’t want to know how fast you can jerk off either”
“JERK OFF, what the fu…. DYER!!!!”

Having already crossed the Rubicon at this point, my friend gave up. I ended going out on a few dates with the girl and eventually told her the whole story, good times.

1 comment:

  1. This is classic. It was a dumb idea, but A+ for the creative way to punish him for having it.