It’s my last full day in Vegas and still there is no sign of any coffee worth sippin’. I’m about to make another chemex of Tres Santos, but it’s my last filter… So, I won’t be able to make coffee for tomorrow’s drive back to Los Angeles. What can a barista do?
Anyway, I do have a great story to tell. So, I’m here with my girlfriend, Monica, and her parents. Her parents have spent the last couple days sucked into penny slots. At one point, Monica’s mother was rockin’ it. She had sunk $20 and won $80… Not bad. So, we’d been rolling around these casinos all day and around 12:30, we were getting tired of watching penny slots… And there were no signs of us getting out the casino anytime soon. The look of frustration was growing on Monica’s face, and I took this as a good opportunity to get off the floor and enjoy some whiskey.
We approached a bar I had seen earlier in the Belaggio. My kinda bar. Carved wood decor, nice comfy lounge seats all about, and very professional bar men behind the counter. All the chairs were filled, minus one recently vacated- and uncleared table. So, we asked a waitress to clear and she told us to wait at the bar and get some drinks.
The bar tender was a very friendly, but simply professional looking individual who was very helpful in leading me to the right whiskey. But where this all begins is when Monica asked for Jameson on the rocks… Suddenly out of the shadows next to us, this Irishman suddenly appears, shouting, “Jameson! Jameson is simply the best! It is the best!” This was possibly the best ice breaker ever… Upon receiving a Jameson on the rocks and the 16yr aged Bushmills the bar keeper pointed me to, I handed my card over to pay… at which, the Irishman rejected my card and said to put the drinks on his tab. Which, then turns to conversation about how lovely of a couple we are. I think I shook that man’s hand somewhere around three dozen times.
He continues to ask us about our trip, how the floors been treating us (which, up to this point, I haven’t even sunk a dollar into a machine), and what our New Years plans had been… We asked him the like. When we told him we hadn’t been gambling he simply pulled out a $500 chip and said, take this and go 00 on roulette. Now, I’m a skeptical kinda guy… Which is why I hadn’t even tried to gamble. So, I left the chip on the counter for a good while… Partially believing it to be completely fake, and partially waiting for him to grab it back. He never did.
Eventually, there were a few comments from the bar tender that got me thinking… The first comment was to the Irishman… You never tip me like that… The second, to me, was that I might have a hard time cashing the chip as they’ll want to know where it came from. Third, he said that in his 10 years at that bar, he’d never seen anyone do anything like that… Just then Monica’s mom calls and we had our out of this growingly awkward conversation.
Now, I’m not much of a betting man… But I had a good feeling my best odds were not to throw this thing down on roulette. Instead, we gave the chip to Monica’s dad… Who looks much more legit than my 22-year old punk ass. Flawlessly he cashed it… Now, I’m smiling, having not bet a single dollar, but walking away with $500…
All in all, this trip has been ridiculous. From comic shows, bad coffee, terrible food, and the like. I’m ready for Los Angeles again. I really miss east LA right now. Devin’s in Minneapolis, and I’ve been hearing similar thoughts from him. Then again, it’s negative-god-knows-what there… Best of luck friend!