In a previous post I told the story of how I nearly got arrested 3 hours after arraving in the States for public urination (in the desert). I’m sorry I only posted that in Spanish, bit I’ve been very busy lately.
Anyhow, after that lovely welcome, and many hours sleeping in the back of a car, I woke up near the Hoover damn,an impressive work of engineering. Next time I woke up we were entering Vegas, and we Ruben, being his 5th time in the place, decided to follow our indications, so we naturally got lost. Quick stop in a petrol station for beer, beef jerky and Red Bull -beat that for a healthy diet- and we managed to get to Las Vegas Hilton.
The hotel is as big and tacky as it can be, all covered with carpets, just in case it gets cold or something. We sepnd the night in a casino that looks like an Irish pub, where kids get drunk playing Beer Pong -we really need to bring this to Europe. It didn’t take long for me to realise I am totally incapable of playing cards. Good thing then there was a table were the highes card wins :) as simple as that. And it payed for the beer.
Some time through the night (7 AM?) a huge lad comes up to me with a bloody fists. Tells me he was just defending himself and asks me to do something. In my ethilic confusion I look blankly at him, not unlike a cow: “Why don’t you tell someone from security?”. He looks at me. “You don’t work here?” I was wearing a tie, must be very missleading…
Some time later we went for a good all American breakfast, including the largest omelet available in planet Hearth. Alberto, the Cuban taxi driver that took us to the hotel offered us every single wrongdoing you might imagine. And they got cheaper and creepier as get got closer to the hotel. By the time we where there, it was finely crushed paracetamol and strippers with leprosy,
Short sleep, hellish awakening, loads of water, a clean shirt to cover the skin I lack around the neck, and off we went to explore the Srtip, Vegas’ main street (more like a motorway).
I won’t bore you describing every single hotel. Each one’s bigger than the previuos one, with a even more impressive casino and endless amenities.
But after 30 hours in Vegas, when you been drunk twice (or even thrice), and you get to the Venetian, and you get to think that the whole place feels as real as Truman’s Show, then you’re in trouble. Vegas is not a place to think…
But Raul has always a solution for every problem. And vodka did the trick this time. After pizza, siesta, vodka and a shower, we hit the old casinos, made some money playing roulette and in a final stupid move, I bet all to the red, get all my money back and decide it is time to sleep.
Did I had fun? Of course I did. Next morning we drove for 18 hours, but that’s an all together different story…
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