Monday night, after my nap, I took a cab up to The Riviera. I didn't stay very long though. Just long enough to briefly check for anyone I knew. I didn't see anyone, so I took a cab to The Rio.
I took notes.
There's something about The Rio that feels like home to me. I love walking into this place - it just energizes me. And that goes double for The Tilted Kilt. Even though they seem to have gone insane with remodeling, it's still my favorite place in Las Vegas.
Anyway, the first thing I noticed was that I didn't know the bartender. I'd been hoping that HenpeckedGuy would be working. The second thing I noticed was that PictureGirl was nowhere to be seen. The third thing was that Rogue Dead Guy Ale was on tap, so I ordered one (194).
Lastly, I noticed that Rogue Chocolate Stout was on tap. Yay! So I guess I know what I'll be drinking for the rest of the night.
PictureGirl doesn't work here anymore. That's probably for the best. Also, HenpeckedGuy will be working here tomorrow night.
I'm struck by the realization that this is the first time that I've sat in this bar and felt completely safe. There is zero chance of a surprise visit. It's a pretty nice feeling, or at least it would be if I were sane. For me, it's quite dull. This is probably one of the reasons that I've felt so strange about this entire trip. I've achieved safety via isolation, and isolation is something I've never wanted.
Some dipshit just ordered a black and tan.
StupidGirl still works here. She smiled at me. I should ask her what happened to PictureGirl. Scratch that - I should ask her no such thing.
Rogue Chocolate Stout time (858).
Problem is, I'm still a bit hung-over from lunch.
I should have stayed at The Riviera longer. It would have been nice to see some people I know.
In case nobody has ever noticed, that Sharipova girl is hot.
I wish I was staying here instead of at The Luxor.
OMG, this fucker next to me just told the bartender that he's not a lightweight so he drinks Bud and not Bud Light. I'm sitting here biting my tongue to keep from laughing in his face.
He's noticed me grinning, and now he's glaring at me. I may have to beat the shit out of him.
So instead of getting into a fight with PussyMan, I've been talking to him. He's a Yankees fan. Seems like a decent guy despite his delusions about beer.
Another Rogue Chocolate Stout (874).
I like hot girls.
Stupid people have arrived.
StupidGirl just offered to give me PictureGirl's phone number. I told her that I was seeing someone. That was, of course, a big fat lie.
Okay, I compromised. I gave StupidGirl my number.
Honesty time. I told StupidGirl that I'm not in a relationship, but that I'm taken nonetheless. This confused her. I fear that her brain may explode now.
She keeps trying to see what I'm writing, but it's none of her business so I'm using my free hand to hide it.
I told her about the hiding what I'm writing. She asked if it was about her. I said it was. She asked it if was good. I said it was neutral. Her face fell.
I could probably have sex with StupidGirl if I wanted to, but I don't want to. That's weird.
I'm going to the Grand Canyon tomorrow morning, and I don't want to be hung-over, so I'm outta here.
So I took a cab to New York New York and had a Diet Coke and talked to PonytailGirl while I waited for my chicken tenders to get ready. Then I walked back to my room at The Luxor and ate then slept.
In an hour or so I leave for the Grand Canyon! Yay!