Personal Dork Assistant

Vegas Baby, Vegas

I really should catch that movie sometime. Best Buy has the DVD on-sale all the time. I guess I was just turned off by all the hype from Gen-X wannabe hipsters (read: The Sports Guy). Feel as if I've seen the movie anyway, since all its quotable lines have been beaten to death, which I suppose is actually a point in the movie's favor.

So the uncle flew in with an old friend of his and it's off to Vegas after a weekend stopover at home to meet the cousin's girlfriend, an HK girl living in Toronto. I think they met over the net. Straight shoulder-length hair, thin-rimmed glasses, you know, the quiet-nice-girl look. Tri-and-a-half-lingual, too, thanks to her time in Quebec. I was just trying to figure out how much wine I can get away with and still make it back home from Emeryville without freaking dad out.

Thanks to the VIP card, a voice mail to the uncle's Player Host scored an extra comped hotel room. Helps that it's mid-week in the summer, but still nice. Makes up for the last-second ass-rape plane ticket, anyway. It's all for the best, really, since I fucked up the date on my ticket, but easily fixed it without penalty because I was paying full fare.

Did have to take a different flight into Vegas from them since theirs was the only one that sold out. Thank to my bag of electronic toys (which got by the screeners okay despite the dire warnings), killing 1.5 hours at McCarran wasn't a problem. How did you think I got around to writing all this crap?

Thankfully, there was a Coffee Bean next to the gate. Got an ice-blended Vanilla Sunrise, and found out that a Regular size is at least a third larger than the drinks I was sucking down in those Pasadena summers way back when. On the other hand, you can't really go wrong with a large, icy drink in Vegas during the summer, AC or no. Bonus points for whip cream on top, of course. Except I get possessed by some sort of misplaced food guilt and always ask for "just a little bit" when they ask if I want whip or not. They usually still fill the dome with cream anyway, so I can transfer the guilt to incompetent customer service instead of those empty calories. Got my drink behind a couple of Japanese ladies, and the girl behind the counter punched out three spots on my Coffee Bean "frequent" drinker card (which has been in my wallet for like three years). Hooray for Asian genetic similarity (i.e. can't tell 'em apart). I'll have to keep my blacked-out card around and see if I can get my freebie from the Coffee Bean in Taipei.

It was cool for the Comic-Con, but decided to unclip the grunty plushie the bag. It was a little too gay, in the literal and perjorative sense. Plus it's worth $ on EBay. Clipped on the Cthulu toy instead. It got curious stares from a kid and mom behind me on the jetway, but I didn't feel like explaining Elder Demons and the whole Lovecraftian mythos.

A convenient limo got us to the hotel. The VIP check-in probably took longer than the regular counter, since VIPs tend to have plenty of picky requirements. Had quick two-plate buffet for a late lunch. Didn't have to go crazy filling up at the buffet since it was comped. Killed the rest of the afternoon at the blackjack table, where despite the up-and-downs the net effect was to change five twenties into a C-note plus a tip for the dealer.

Hit the Bellagio sports book (what I want my house to look like if I had an unlimited budget, no taste, and no intention of ever shacking up with a woman) to have a look at the tote board before dinner. Baseball betting is such a bitch, but I had to lay down some bucks on the Rocks for the brotha, and might as well as put a bet on the Giants while I was at it. No action for the Little League regionals. Bummer. Now they're covering the Little League Softball World Series, too, because crying little girls = good TV.