Strange memories on this nervous night in Las Vegas. Five years later? Six? It seems like a lifetime, or at least a Main Era—the kind of peak that never comes again – Hunter S Thompson

In November of this past year my friend concocted a schedule for a weekend of indecency that would take us from Winstar Casino in southern Oklahoma all the way up to Norman to watch the TCU versus OU football game. With forty- seven dollars to my name, I was on the fence, but upon the knowledge that there was a truck already full of booze and a few bags that were significant of private venmo transactions, I was swayed to partake in the journey. 

After a quick road trip that consisted of Chief Keef and many tall boys of twisted tea, we dragged all the paraphernalia we had into our third floor room, being incredibly careful that the front desk wouldn’t figure out we had five people staying in a two person reservation. And then amongst showers(together of course) we started actually drinking. For about an hour as we tried to get as fucked up as possible to save money on buying drinks, and our room was reminiscent of something you would see in Behind The Music: Mötley Cruë. Just as we were getting ready to get on the hotel shuttle, I felt a sharp pain stabbing me in the side. I knew instantly that I either had appendicitis or that this was going to be some vigorous adderall induced diarrhea. I told the guys I’d meet them there in a half an hour, and unfortunately, it was not appendicitis.

After taking enough tums that I knew I wouldn’t shit maybe ever again, I got inside the mind of a Greg Jennings and hopped on that shuttle after getting my asshole destroyed worse than Riley Reid with mascara down her face. I met my friends on the roulette table, and I’ve never been a gambler, so I got a Jack and Coke and sat there with my hands in my pants. It’s not that I’m morally opposed to gambling, I’m just poor, so I struck up a conversation with the guy next to me to make the time pass by. Lucky enough, he had to take care of his too-drunk-girlfriend and left me with his last $10 chip. I threw it on twenty-black much to the dismay of my friends, and it fucking hit. My first time ever placing an actual bet and I got paid out $260 of $10 that wasn’t even fucking mine. I cashed out almost all of my money, bought two packs of cigarettes, and we hit a restaurant.

The restaurant was owned by Toby Keith, and the food was actually pretty good. The guy sitting at the table next to us, probably in his later fifties, was surrounded by what had to be four prostitutes. He linked eyes with my friend Thomas and came over to our table, gifted us two shots of tequila each and told us we reminded him of his younger years. This guy had to be fucking loaded, as he told us that he would be flying a private plane that night at around 2 am. I called cap immediately, no fucking way your good to fly a plane right now dude, I shit you not he hit me back with, been flying planes for over twenty years son, aint no such thing as a sky DUI. The conversations continued to roll, and the shots kept comin. He found out a little bit about all of us and upon seeing a picture of my friends girlfriend at the time pronounced to the whole table, yeah she’s a good one, I’d fuck her. I’d definately fuck her.

As the night rolled on, a cigarette never left my lips. I was smoking like an ex-heroin addict from Florida, and I loved every second of it. I couldn’t tell you why, but for whatever reason I was with two of my friends in the food court an hour and a half later, and some other guy comes over to us asking if we were looking for internships or drugs. That was the first time anyone had ever heard those two words in the same sentence, so we told him he had some explaining to do. I’m pretty hazy from all the drinking, but he kept rambling and at one point mentioned that he had just gotten out of a seven year stint in jail. This caught my curiosity and I asked him what I feel like any normal person would’ve asked, oh shit, what for? His face turned incredibly serious, the fuck you just ask me? I didn’t take the hint, you know…like what for? Like seven years is a long time an…he cut me off, don’t you ever fucking ask that, if you ask someone that where I just was you get fucking shanked. Understand, SHANKED. My friends, being the cunts that they are, filled the silence with, I mean I just don’t know why you would ask that. It’s common knowledge that that’s an inappropriate question to ask. It was clear that the discourse between our two parties was coming to an end, but we got his card and a $2 Xanax pill, not because any of us were gonna take it, but for the morbid curiosity of seeing something that was so hilariously laced with fentanyl. 

If anyone in the Dallas area is looking for an internship during these difficult times, I know a standup guy who’ll take care of you.

You know the gut feeling when it’s time to get the fuck out of somewhere, yeah, safe to say I knew it was time to leave the casino. When we got back to the hotel, we totally forgot that we’d have to fit five guys in two twin beds, and that just wasn’t gonna fucking happen. I called the front desk, making up an intricate lie that one of my friends sister just had a miscarriage and we desperately needed to give him his own space. Oh okay, well that’s fine it’s like 1 AM and nobody sleeps on the smoking floor much anyway, I’ll give you guys another one of the same rooms for $11. The night ended with my friend Joe and I splitting a spliff on our hotel beds reflecting on the absurdity of the aforementioned interactions. And with $200 in my pocket and nine cigarettes left, we went to bed optimistic for the next day in Norman.