Las Vegas, it’s just one of those places. It just happens to be the place that I spent memorial weekend. As you probably already already know, I’m and energetic guy and Las Vegas brings a lot of energy itself, so when combined, the effects can be explosive. At least I felt that I was in store for an explosive weekend when I stepped off the plane. I now feel like I wrong. I’m just not big time enough to really have the kind of time I would like to have when I become official. Why do I feel this way? Because of nights like these….
The names have been changed to protect the guilty…
The second night I was there, my boy “Jimmy” suggested that we go to club PURE. Supposedly it was going to be a big time event because it was Rampage Jackson’s after party (I found out later that he won his fight, helping build the hype for the night). Jimmy, “Billy”, and I got to the club at 9:30 P.M. and the line was already like 1,000 people long. I was not trying to wait that long to get into this place.
I walked up to the front of the line and asked the guy how long it would be before we got in. He let me know that it would take about 2-2.5 hours to get to the front, and that it would cost $40 when we got there (our bootleg free passes meant nothin). As I was walking back to our group, a guy near the front yells out “Haha! You tried that basketball B.S. to try to get V.I.P. and that sh*t didn’t work!”
I turned around and looked at this guy. He was with a crew of about 6 guys who all seemed to share his sentiments, because they were all laughing at me. The amount of disrespect was unbelievable. I mean basically those were fightin words. I turned and looked back at my crew. Jimmy and Billy were no fighters, and let’s face it, neither am I, really. So I decided to let them have their fun.
I returned to our spot in line. Jimmy said that he would wait in line while Billy and I went to the liquor store because Billy and I are not those guys who can afford to pay $13 per drink.
We got our fill at the liquor store and met back up with Jimmy. We finally got in at 11 (an hour ahead of projections), and it was already absolutely packed. It was actually pretty uncomfortable. I kept trying to get space, but there was none to be had. There was plenty of space, however, in the VIP section. It was elevated by about 4 feet so that all the beautiful celebrities could look down on us.
Wilmer Valderamma took the mic and started saying a ton of things that I couldn’t understand. Then he started calling out the names of all the celebs in attendance: Adam Sandler, Kim Kardashian, Mandy Moore, Rampage Jackson, etc. Rod Benson stood below and watched all these people toast their drinks and talk their talk, while he was stuck down with the common folk, overly crowed, being asked how tall he was every 8 seconds.
I got asked if I played basketball so many times that I began saying that I didn’t, so that I wouldn’t have to explain for what team, then explain what the D-League is, then see the disappointment on their faces. One guy says to me “How tall are you? I know you play basketball!” I respond with “No, I don’t. Sorry.” Then he has the nerve to say “Wow, that’s just a waste of height. That sucks.” I, being far too annoyed at this point to give a damn, say “That’s interesting. There are kids dying of leukemia everyday, and you’re wasting this healthy body by talking too much. That sucks.” I walked away after that.
It was then that I wanted to leave. I already knew everyone was thinking “Wow, this guy is so tall, he must be in the N.B.A.! But why isn’t he up there with them? He must not be any good at all, actually.” I asked Billy if he wanted to leave, he said he did, because it was too crowded for him too. Jimmy had already left with a young lady, so we didnt have to worry about him.
Billy and I arrived at the same liquor store for the second time that night. Since I decided that we were pretty much losers at this point, Billy decided to buy a whole fifth. “No way are we coming back here for a third time! No way bro,” he said to me,”I’m gettin the fifth this time.”
We sat back in an alley and starting drinking and talking about how lame we were. The beautiful celebrities were still at the hottest club in Vegas, while we were in the loading dock area of Bally’s by ourselves. We decided that, even though we were lame, and losers, that we could still salvage the night, even though it was already 1:20 A.M. That’s when Billy went to work on the bottle. His tolerance is nowhere near mine, but he didn’t seem to care. These photos represent what followed (the exact reason why I changed his name):
Halfway thru the bottle…
Starting to feel himself a little too much….
Falling down, Del Taco Lemonade goes everywhere
Why get up? Just go ahead and make a phone call while laying in the middle of the sidewalk…
Well as you can see, he was getting progressively worse. When we got back to the hotel (4 A.M.), he was still in high spirits. Some of our other friends were already there waiting for us at the bar. We met some girls and began to talk.
As you can see, I’m still fine, but Billy is DRUNK. Well, we sat down with these girls. Billy was talking to the one on the right (his left). While in the middle of a sentence, he puts his head down and starts throwing up between his legs. The girl says “Wow, how rude.” But Billy does not respond. He literally just sits there with his head down, motionless.
I tell my friend Renee not the go to him just yet, so that we dont cause a scene. Nobody has seen him yet, so I let him sit there for a few more seconds, then Renee and I carry him to the elevator. He drags his feet the whole time. When we get him to our floor, he literally refuses to go any further and makes his body heavy to stop us from carrying him.
I actually had to grab him by one arm and drag him 40 yards through the luxor hotel because he wouldnt move his body. It was funny because he was trying to stop me, but he couldnt. He just kept saying “Rod, wait wait wait. Stop, wait. Hold up hold up.” Then I’d say “What the hell do you wanna stop for?” Then he’d reply “I dont know, just stop.”
It took me almost 2 hours to drag him from the bar to his bed. When he got into bed he just kept saying “No0o0o0o! No0o0o00o! No0o0o0o0o!” Who knows why? All I know is that Billy made his mark that night. Actually he literally left throw up marks in about 7 different spots in the hotel. Had we been big time, this wouldnt have happened. We would sipped casually with beautiful celebrities. I guess we’ll just have to wait until I get that contract.