Sunday, March 31, 2013

Happy Easter

I hope you were all good little boys and girls, and the Easter Bunny visited your house this morning.


Saturday, March 30, 2013

I Know What You Need

I bet I know what you could use the day before Easter!  Some CHOCOLATE.


Thursday, March 28, 2013

Monday, March 25, 2013

It's Easter Week!!!

One thing I truly respect is a person's right to their religious beliefs.  However that does not stop me from laughing at inappropriate pictures at the expense of your Lord and Savior.  As Easter is coming up, like last year-I will feature a "probably inappropriate" item concerning Jesus/Easter/The Resurection/God.  Enjoy.

Here is today's entry.  Just terrible.


Monday Morning Stories With Mookie - Episode 61

The Time Mookie And Megan Stayed at Circus Circus (Manors)

During my Senior year of college, "Megan (*)" suggested that her and I should go to Las Vegas for Spring Break.  It sounded great on the surface, especially since it was somewhere I'd always wanted to go.  But with things the way they were (broke and poor college student), I figured this Spring Break would be just like all my previous ones - working full-time manning the Sporting Goods counter at Walmart.

I should also mention that at this point:

1. I had never been on a plane anywhere. Ever.
2. I had never purchased anything that cost that much on a credit card.
3. I'm an incredibly indecisive puss when it comes to pulling the trigger on such things.

Megan of course knows these things (much to her chagrin), so she went online and found a pretty decent deal on airfare just to show me what it would cost.  I agreed that it was not a bad deal, but yet my sissy-ass indecisiveness was battling the potential fun that could be had.  I had no real reason to say "no" other than my fear of charging up my credit card, but my desire for fun was trying to push that fear aside.  Sensing I was pretty much on the verge of saying "yes," she asked "Do you want me to book it?" This was naturally followed by a few more minutes of me saying "I don't know." about 50 times.

Finally I realized I was being a wuss about it and would forever regret it if we didn't go. So I took off my panties, put on my big boy shorts and asked her to book it.  She called me back a short time later said we were going to Las Vegas for Spring Break. Boom.

Since we didn't get a hotel/fight package combo, Megan asked me to secure the hotel accommodations.  In the little research I had done, I knew that Circus Circus was probably the cheaper way to go.  If you are not familiar with the layout of The Strip in Las Vegas, it is an approximately five-mile stretch of road called Las Vegas Boulevard.  Circus Circus is located towards the northern end, while most of the cool places are (of course) in the middle or towards the south end.  I knew we were going to walk everywhere regardless of where we stayed, so I figured the fact that Circus Circus was mildly out of the way was easily trumped by its cheap nightly room rate.

I called up Circus Circus and made reservations for us for the 3 nights we were going to be there.  The lady told me that the rooms they had available were in "The Manors" part of the hotel.  "Ok, sure."  I had no idea what this meant and was just excited to get a room at $29.99 plus whatever fees they tack on.  Needless to say my naivete about Vegas (and not asking the right questions in general) was going to bite me in the ass.

We left on an early Saturday morning flight, made a connection in Denver, and landed in Vegas before lunch.  It was funny - because our flights were so early, AND because we were going back two time zones - we got breakfast on both legs of the flight - which was nice.  What was even nicer was that since I had never flown before, Megan let me have the window seat so I could take in the view from 30,000 ft.  It was also great because I was easily able to catch a glimpse of The Strip for the first time while taxi-ing on the the tarmac to the terminal.  I just remember thinking that Vegas was the coolest place ever.  Again, I had never flown before and NOW I was in Las Vegas of all places.  It was a big day for me for sure.

We decided to take a cab, so we found one that would take us to Circus Circus.  It goes without saying the cab driver was middle eastern and spoke very broken English.  Unfortunately for us (as I said before), Circus Circus is pretty much the farthest point on the The Strip from the airport so that cab ride was not cheap.  Welcome to Las Vegas newbies.  I remember watching the meter on the dash ticking away as we drove up The Strip, and thinking "Oh my God."

We entered the glorious gaudiness that is Circus Circus and went to check in.  If you have never been to Circus Circus before, it is certainly a sight to behold.  For one thing, it is an older establishment - and it shows.  Secondly, they take the "circus" thing literally - everything is circus themed.  Not only do they have have a live circus within the casino, it also looks like a clown had a wet dream and then threw up all over the place.  Upon checking in, the desk clerk reminded us that we were staying in The Manors.  "OK.  What is that?"   Much to our disappointment, we found out that the "Circus Circus Manors" are clear across the Circus property, and are actually known as the "Circus Circus Manors Motor Lodge."  W.T. F.

Was there a shuttle?  Of course not silly people!  The desk lady said we could take a cab, but after dumping almost $30 on Abdul's Taxi Service to get here, we decided to pass on that expenditure.  So with luggage in hand - we walked.  Awesome.

I have to admit the rooms were not that bad in terms of cleanliness, however they continued the clown vomit/ejaculate motif from the main casino.  Picture lots of circus-tent stripes, balloons, and even more stripes.  Thankfully they refrained from clown pictures, because everyone knows clowns are f'n creepy.

Needless to say, after our early morning flight and the "setback" of being relegated to the motor lodge, we decided to take a nap before we had any more "adventures" that day.

Eventually we set out and made our way down The Strip to see the sights.

During our three days there we had a great time.  We had some fun and successful gaming at O'Sheas, we won tickets to a show at the old Westward Ho Hotel and Casino (a whole story in itself), and we were able to visit several casinos that are no longer around anymore (like the aforementioned Westward Ho, The Sands, Frontier, Stardust, and Desert Inn).  PLUS!  We even got "the big drinks" at Slots of Fun.  If you have never had the big drinks in Vegas, you have to get one.  Its a 3-foot tall plastic tube with a ballooned bottom, and a really long straw.  It essentially looks like a giant vase.  They fill them up with ice and booze, and you can stumble all over town with them... which you know...is nice.  I don't remember it tasting that great, but that's not the point.  Big drinks are cool.  Plus we saw and walked through pretty much every casino up and down both sides of The Strip.  (Just a hint:  Every casino has a machine that goes "Ding ding ding ding ding ding" in annoying tone that you swear follows you everywhere.)  The only real downside to the entire trip was walking cllleeeeeear back to our hotel room at the end of the day.

Which is really the point of this whole story:  The walking to and from this hotel.

As our starting point at the hotel was quite far removed from everything, it pretty much meant a 10 minute walk from our room to The Strip, and then a 45 minute walk minimum to get to the "good" casinos down the road.  Then when you get to the good stuff, you know you are going to keep walking and walking.  Before you know it, you want to go back to your hotel and its going to be an hour walk back...easy.  Comfy shoes are a necessity.

After a few days of doing this numerous times, our desire to wander real far down The Strip became less and less each day. By the last day if we wanted to go anywhere further down The Strip, we utilized a cheap-ass trolley to catch rides up and down The Strip.  It wasn't the most speedy type of travel, but it was truly money well spent indeed.

So with that, let me leave you with this advice:
If you don't mind walking an extra mile going to and from your room just to get to The Strip, one-way walks down The Strip that take an hour, and if you don't mind delusional circus furnishings....I say go for it...you should stay at The Circus Circus Manors Motor Lodge.
"That there is a RV." - Cousin Eddie

Otherwise - You will need to front a little more cash and stay somewhere near the middle of The Strip.

Trust me and do that.  Your feet will thank you.

OH!  I forgot to mention the fact Circus Circus Hotel and Casino has an RV park as well!  If you are lucky and get a room on the 3rd floor of one of the Manor buildings, you will have a great view of the RV lot AND the RV facility swimming pool!

You know...just in case you needed any more advice about staying there.

(*) - Names changed to protect the guilty/innocent.

Miss an previous episode?  Click HERE to check them all out!



Friday, March 22, 2013

Where Do You Sit?



























When you go out to eat with your "significant other," where do you sit?  Do you sit together and share the same side of the table/booth, or do you sit across from one another so that each of you has a whole seat/side to yourself? 

I don't care how "sweet" it is, but if you sit on the same side you are stupid.

Thursday, March 21, 2013

What Kind of Ass???

Ohh!  Flashing Chicken Ass.  Yes, of course!  Especially at that price!

Monday, March 18, 2013

Monday Morning Stories With Mookie - Episode 60

Since its March and a lot of people have Spring Break, all of the Monday Morning Stories With Mookie in March will be about activities that happened in my favorite Spring Break location:  LAS VEGAS!!

The Time Mookie And Rick Saw Pete Rose and Ken Stabler

During a break in the gambling and drinking on a particular Vegas trip, "Rick"(*) and I decided to head to The Forum Shops at Caesar's Palace and see if we couldn't pick up some nice things for the family back home. While walking past a section of stores, we noticed a sports memorabilia shop across the mall that had a huge banner out front.  Once we got closer and could read it, it said something to the fact of "Pete Rose and Ken Stabler Here TODAY!!"

NO KIDDING?  Charlie Hustle and The Snake???

To refresh your memory or in case you don't know who they are:
Pete Rose (a.k.a "Charlie Hustle") is the disgraced former-major league baseball player who currently holds several MLB records, notably the most career hits (4,256), and was an All-Star 18 times who played at 5 different positions.  While Pete Rose is arguably one of the best to ever play the game, he is also one of the most despised.  Why?  Well, other than admitting he frequently gambled on baseball games he played in or managed, he also has a track record of being an immense dick both on and off the field.  The gambling offense earned him a lifetime ban from anything relating to major league baseball, and is forever banned from the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown.  Naturally this made him even more of an asshole, and he now spends his time signing autographs for money.  Classy.

Ken Stabler (a.k.a. "The Snake") is a former NFL quarterback who largely played for the Oakland Raiders during the 1970's.  He led the Raiders to a Super Bowl XI victory, and led the league in TD passes for a number of years.  He has also been recognized as one of the top ten players not in the Football Hall of Fame.  Like Pete Rose, stories about Stabler's antics off the field sometimes over-shadowed his prowess on the field.  I've read that he was meticulous when it came to three things, studying his playbook, chasing the ladies, and hitting booze.  The guy was no Charlie Sheen by any means, but I would guess this behavior contributed to his three failed marriages.  I would also bet his Super Bowl parties are Off. The. Hook.

Rick and I immediately remembered a particular book Rick used to have when he was younger, and wished we had it here for Pete to autograph.  The book was written by Pete Rose, and it explained  "how" to play baseball the "Pete Rose way."  The book obviously included the general rules of baseball, but Pete went the extra mile and provided some official tried-and-true "Charlie Hustle" playing tips and techniques.  Please keep in mind, the target audience of this book was probably a garden-variety ten-year-old.

The book took a left-turn of sorts when Rose addressed a hitting "technique" in particular that he referred to as "The Bastard Play."  It basically entailed faking a bunt at the pitcher, and then at the last minute openly swinging at the ball. The result (according to Rose) was the pitcher scrambling forward to field the bunt, only to be left looking stupid as the ball was smacked to the outfield.  The pitcher would then reportedly turn towards Rose and call him "a bastard" as he ran to first base.  I had never heard this phrase before, and to this day have never seen it anywhere else.  We of course thought it was HILARIOUS that this "play" was in a kids book, but then again...we are talking about Pete Rose here. I'm surprised there wasn't bookmaking tips and advice on betting against spread.

Sadly, Rick accidentally left the book in the car of one of our baseball coaches after a road-trip game, and he never got it back.  To add further insult to injury, this coach ended up cutting us from the team shortly thereafter (because we weren't that good).  Talk about a "bastard play" right?

But I digress.

Pete "I'll sign anything for $50" Rose.
So we wandered over closer to the shop, and sure enough there is Pete Rose and Ken Stabler waiting to sign autographs in exchange for cash.  They were positioned in the vestibule of shop, sitting on folding chairs behind a long folding table.  The table had a tablecloth/skirt thing around it - apparently to make it appear "classy."  Pete's "appearance rider" probably demands this sort of shit, because when you think of class, you think of Pete f'n Rose. There were also large banners of Pete behind him that displayed him in a few of his historic poses. It made me want to get banners with pictures of myself on them to put in my cube at work.

The velvet rope partitions that were intended to direct rabid fans into an orderly line were unsurprisingly empty.  I attempted to walk closer and at try to at least take a picture of big Pete, but once I broke out my cell phone to take a picture I was quickly shut down. There was some guy "moderating" the store entry, and he gave off a vibe that said he was in-no-way going to let me get picture of Charlie Hustle for FREE.  No. Way.  (So I have to admit the above picture is not mine and I found it on the internet, but this is almost exactly what it looked looked like.)

I then noticed that Ken Stabler's section of the table was definitely less-asshole-ish than Rose's.  All he had was a simple sign in front of him that said his name, and I think there were a few Oakland Raiders collectibles sitting there - but that was it though.  I didn't know if Ken was simply a humble guy or if Pete had pawned all of Ken's memorabilia to lay a bet on the ponies that morning.

From what we could see, it cost at least $50 just for an autograph.  Who knows what the "arm around the waist" buddy shot cost.  I wouldn't have surprised if people had to sign something that said they wouldn't touch or make direct eye contact with Pete too.

People who charge for autographs should burn in hell.

It was then that we decided to seek our entertainment elsewhere, and headed out into the night.
So even though we only spent about 30 seconds watching Pete Rose sit at a folding table in a mall, I do have to admit it was kind of cool. It's not everyday you get to see a celebrity like that in person - especially when its the celebrity that introduced you to "The Bastard Play." Just for that play alone Pete should get some Cooperstown love and recognition.

Good times.


Easily the best autograph ever.

In case you are wondering where I stand, I do think Rose deserves to be in The Hall of Fame.  He is easily one of the best to play the game, and his lifetime stats reflect this.

While Rose definitely violated the rule that states a person cannot bet on games in which they personally can affect the outcome, I don't know that it is worthy of a lifetime ban.

Yes he bet on baseball and that is a "no-no" in the rule books.  It doesn't help his cause that he bet on games where he could definitely affect the outcome.

HOWEVER:

  • They never proved he did anything to negatively affect any game he was involved in.
  • They never proved that he bet against the Reds (his team) at any time while playing or coaching.
  • They also found that when Pete bet on a game the Reds were playing, he bet ON his team every time.

I think this should be taken into consideration.

Everyone knows Pete played to win.  That's just what he did. The fact he is a tremendous bastard is beside the point and that shouldn't matter.  Case in point:  Ty Cobb is in the Hall of Fame and he reportedly is the hugest bastard to ever play baseball. That's what I think anyway.

I must also add real quick that I did a quick Google search on "The Bastard Play" in preparation of this story.  I only found ONE mention of it, and it was buried in the comments section of some old baseball fan site. However, the comment not only described "The Bastard Play," but it attributed it to Pete Rose as well.  That made me laugh.


(*) - Names changed to protect the guilty/innocent.

Miss a previous episode?  Click HERE!


Sunday, March 17, 2013

Third Shift Laugh

My wife somehow holds back at every meal and doesnt say this to our son.  Its usually something close though.

Friday, March 15, 2013

This Ad Troubles Me

To me this ad is saying:
"So ladies remember! You don't want to be a "Sally Smelly-Crotch" when some guy picks you up over his shoulder."

But SERIOUSLY! If you are in a close personal relationship with this person (and you do have occasional odor issues), the chances are pretty good that they already know you are all stanky down there.  Odds are pretty high that they probably don't care either.

HOWEVER.  If some random guy is picking you up over his shoulder and carrying you somewhere, your smelly crotch is probably the least of your problems.

In fact, it may actually help you in this situation.




IS IT RACIST???

Today's episode of "Is It Racist??? comes to us in the form of a family picture featuring a mother and her 3 beautiful daughters.  Or is it their father?  Or is it both?

While maybe it isn't racist, one thing is for certain -  That person can grow a more manly 'stash than I can.


Monday, March 11, 2013

I Could Do Without Cashier Commentary



Monday Morning Stories With Mookie - Episode 59

Since its March and a lot of people have Spring Break, all of the Monday Morning Stories With Mookie in March will be about activities that happened in my favorite Spring Break location:  LAS VEGAS!!

The Time Mookie And James Kicked Ass At Hooters Casino

A few years back, my friend "James"(*) from work and I went to Las Vegas for an extended weekend. It was funny how the trip came together because it all started off as a discussion at work where I was telling James about one of my previous trips to Sin City, and him saying that he'd never been there before. Literally, within 3 days:  We had approval from both of our wives to go (not always an easy thing), our schedules coordinated, and had the trip booked. The best part was that it departed in less than 3 weeks from then, so we were pretty excited.

Since we were trying to make the trip rather inexpensive, we decided on accommodations at the old Sahara Hotel and Casino. If you had a chance to visit or stay at the Sahara before it closed in 2011, you probably saw an old facility that was in need of some major remodeling. The online reviews of the hotel often featured words like “old,” “decrepit,” and “gross.” Personally I loved the place as it was one of the last old-school Vegas casinos left on The Strip from the “Rat-Pack” era. The place just felt like a mobster hangout and gave me visions of mobsters in the vault skimming the daily revenue. The old gal had lots of charm. Further reviews also mentioned talk of "bed bugs," which of course gave cause for concern. In the end we threw caution to the wind and went for it because it was cheap. The amount of time we planned on spending in the room was going to be minimal anyway.

We landed in Las Vegas early-evening on a Saturday, checked into the hotel and then proceeded to hit the town HARD. When we got there, I didn’t know if James wanted to see the sights, and gamble a little here and there or what. I quickly found out that James wanted to drink beer and gamble immediately (in that order).  I have to admit I admired that...a lot.  Unfortunately we hit the adult beverages a little too hard that night and the end result kept us out of the sauce for most of the next day.

We gambled it up most of Sunday and Monday, and while we had a lot of fun - we weren’t really winning anything major. Since we were leaving Tuesday morning, we decided that we definitely needed to go all out and hit it hard again on our last night (Monday) or we wouldn't be able to look at ourselves in the mirror.

Prior to heading out for the night, we started into the beer in the late-afternoon thanks-in-part to a convenient shop in the hotel lobby. We decided to take the Tram from the hotel to the other end of The Strip and see what damage we could do there. We wound through the MGM Grand, and quickly decided that establishment wasn’t going to be the scene where we would stage an epic comeback. Once we got outside, it became apparent where we were going to go:  HOOTERS.  I had never been to this casino before, so it was going to be a new adventure for both of us.

We artfully dodged traffic, and made our way into the surprisingly small casino. The place had a rustic feel, but it was clearly a "Hooters" themed establishment. There were signs with the trademark owl, and of course the "Hooters" logo everywhere.  he best part though was...taaa-daaa!......ALL of the the dealers were Hooters Girls. They were all in their tight white tank-tops and tight orange nylon shorts, just like in the restaurants. James and I milled around trying to get a table, but the place was packed. To kill time, we eventually made our way to the casino cage, and signed up for the Hooters Players Card. This entitled us to a bunch of free plays at the tables, and the chance to play a series of "special" slot machines for a chance of winning big on them. We played them, and much like everyone else they sucker into it.....we did not win.

Our actual Hooter's Dealer.  I discreetly snagged this
pic in between hands.
Eventually we found a $5 blackjack table that had just opened up and luckily there was room for bother of us to sit down. Much to our delight - it got lively right away. There were 3 other gentlemen playing at the table with us, and it quickly became a brotherhood of sorts. If we were winning, we were all winning. If we were losing, we all lost. It became comical because everyone knew if someone got up, the "vibe" of the table would be ruined and everyone's good fortunes would go bust. There was a big black gentleman sitting to my right, and he was unintentionally hilarious. He had on dark sunglasses, and was alternating between drinking Courvoisier and Hennessey. If he would run out of money due to his silly betting strategies, he'd gesture to his male companion standing behind him for more money. This happened more than a few times during our time at the table.  While Mr. Courvoisier was up and down in the chips, the rest of us were winning pretty decently. I sat down with $20 and was up $50 pretty quick. I forget how well James was doing, but I know he was winning - AND we were knee-deep in Bud Light the entire time we sat there - so he was happy.  It helped that we also had awesome dealers who were both fun and not unattractive.

Eventually a new dealer came to the table, and after she dealt us one hand (she won) everyone sensed it was time to get up. The whole group of us got up and left the table. In all the tables I've played at I have never seen anything like this happen, where a group of guys who were not together-effectively leave a table. It was probably a severe blow to the dealer's self-esteem, but dammit...money was involved and she definitely wasn't as "hooter-ific" as the previous dealer.

We took our winnings to the casino cage and I cashed out just over $100. James cashed out on the "plus" side of things as well.

It was about then that we decided we were hungry, so we decided to wash down all those beers we had at the tables with some gourmet Hooters food. So we entered the restaurant - which was just off the casino, sat at the bar and dined on chicken wings and more beer.  It should go without saying that it was lovely. Plus - since we were nonchalantly playing the slot machines on the bar-top, our beers were free. Hell yes.

Eventually, we decided our stay at Hooters had run its course, so we ventured outside and continued our gambling elsewhere.  The rest of the evening turned out to be entertaining as well, but I will save that story for another time.

(*) - Names changed to protect the guilty/innocent.

Miss a previous episode?  Click HERE to check out the Library!

Friday, March 08, 2013

PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT

Friends do not let other friends wear Speedos.  The guy in Speedos will always be left out.  No one wants to hang out with the guy in Speedos.



Monday, March 04, 2013

Monday Morning Stories With Mookie - Episode 58

Since its March and a lot of people have Spring Break, all of the Monday Morning Stories With Mookie in March will be about activities that happened in my favorite Spring Break location:  LAS VEGAS!!

The Time Mookie And Junior Went To The Cheetah

A few years back, long-time-hometown-friend "Junior"(*) and I made a journey to the mighty Las Vegas for an extended weekend of gambling and beer.  It should go without saying that we were successful in these endeavors (A previous "Monday Morning" story about a different event on the same trip can be read HERE).  This trip is also memorable because we were able to visit a place that had recently became a humorous locale amongst our group of friends.

Prior to us making the trip, we came up with an informal list of things we wanted to do and see during our excursion.  One thing we unofficially put on the itinerary was to go check out "The Cheetah."  If you have seen the movie "Showgirls," you obviously know that The Cheetah is a topless strip club in Las Vegas.  If you haven't seen the movie "Showgirls," well....you should know that The Cheetah was the name of the club the primary character worked at.  You're welcome.

I should mention here that the actual name of the establishment is "Cheetahs."  You know...just in case you decide to make vacation arrangements yourself.

Since we had previously seen this movie together with our posse of friends, we all joked about how if any of us made it to Las Vegas ---we HAD to go visit The Cheetah and report back.  It was for this reason alone that on the second night of the trip we decided that a visit to The Cheetah was a must-do.  We simply knew we'd regret not taking the opportunity to visit when we were right there.

When we looked up where The Cheetah was in relation to our hotel (Stardust), it didn't appear to be that far off The Strip or the hotel. So to save a few bucks, we thought it would be a genius idea to WALK to The Cheetah.  Naturally, this turned out to be a horrible decision because not only was the club farther out than the map indicated, but also because Junior and I were both sporting pre-trip leg injuries.  Junior had some pre-existing-long-time foot issue, and I was suffering a painful bout of "runner's hip" from my running regimen.  So needless to say when a cab stopped near us and asked if we were going to a strip club, we said "YES."  When we asked how much the ride would cost, you can't imagine our surprise when he said "A dollar each."  Can't beat that!  He then told us the club paid him for bringing in customers every night.  We also asked how much the trip would cost when we left the club back to The Strip.  I don't remember how much it was, but it was way more than I wanted to spend. So we figured odds were good we'd be hoofing it back.  Yes we are idiots.

I need to mention here that I am not an experienced attendee of these sorts of establishments.  I am not offended by them by any means, but out of respect to my wife more than anything - I am not comfortable getting some strange girls boobs pushed in my face.  Plus odds are good she pushed her boobs into some gross dude's face a few minutes earlier, so that takes the allure out of it for me.

At the time I think I had previously been to a strip club once.  That outing was with a group of people (including my wife), and we just sat at a table not near the stage and watched.  Junior on the other hand...well let's just say he'd been to a few gentleman's clubs in his day.  It was because of this I told him from the get-go that I was probably going to follow his lead on things because I had no clue how things worked.

When we exited the cab and made our way to the front door of The Cheetah, I have to admit it was a bit exciting even though I was nervous (I'm such a girl).  The bouncer checked our ID's, saw that we were "out-of-staters" and said the fee was $20 each.  I knew this beforehand, but still....$20.  I just hoped it would be worth it.

We walked into the dark club, and went down a short hallway that went past several rooms that had hanging beads as doors.  Inside you could see shadows of what I presumed to be various patrons getting a lap dance by one of the dancers.  We then entered the rest of the club where there was a bar, a large seating area, and the stage for the dancers.  Oh, and there were lots of topless girls too.....I should mention that.  The seating areas not near the stage had chairs/couches in small circles, while the center of the circles usually had a small table or a table with a pole.  The stage was on one end of the room, and had rows of chairs that went down three-sides of it.  Various dancers could be seen working the room, grinding, dancing, talking, and hustling.  Junior said he wasn't sure he wanted to go up front by the stage right away because he didn't know if it would cost more to do so and didn't want to look stupid.  So we mutually decided the bar was the best place to start off.  We sat down at the bar and each ordered a beer that cost $10.

We sat there for awhile taking in the sights, and talking about various things while trying to act aloof to the topless ladies that were parading by with regularity.  It was then that a particular whore dancer chose to assert herself upon us and offered her "entertainment services."  She was at least wearing a shirt, so that minimized the awkwardness I was feeling.  She started out working both of us, but ended up focusing on me for some reason.  Junior just sat there smiling and listening while this chick tried to make small talk, and attempted to sit in my lap. This was easier said than done given the fact I was sitting on a bar stool, but I give her a B+ for effort.  While the novelty of this chick talking to us amused me, I definitely had no intention of getting a lap dance this evening.  I should add that this poor girl held no chance of getting money out of my wallet due to her severe case of FUGLY.  But because I am a nice guy, I sat and tried to carry on a polite conversation with her over the loud house music blaring in the background.  She asked where I was from, what I do for a living, how long I was in town, blah blah blah.  I'm pretty sure I lied because...you know...this is Las Vegas.  She finally asked if I wanted to have a private dance, and I told her "No thanks, not right now.  My friend and I just got here and we are checking things out."  My hope in saying this was that she would see through my politeness/uncomfortableness, and understand that I wasn't interested.  I quickly learned that she didn't take "no" for an answer, and continued to be persistent.  I guess John Candy said it best in the movie "Brewster's Millions:" "If you don't make any calls, you don't make any sales."
"If you don't make any calls, you don't make any sales.
Am I right Your Honor?" - Spike Nolan (John Candy)

Junior continued to sit there and act like he wasn't listening, but I could tell he was having a good laugh over my uncomfortableness.  Meanwhile, stripper girl had slid off my lap and had positioned herself more or less straddling my leg with her crotch on my knee.  Did I think this was hot?  No.  The thought going through my head (swear to God) was "Man, now I'm going to have to burn these pants."

Finally, she figured out no matter how uncomfortable she made me, I was not going to succumb to her slutty ways.  She finally got up and said something along the lines of "When you get a boner, look for me."  Yeah I'll get right on that.  At this point, all I wanted was another beer.

Junior and I each got another beer, and continued to take in the surroundings while chatting.  It was then we noticed this one girl down the bar talking to (what appeared to be) a few "off-duty" strippers.  She was obviously intoxicated, and I could hear her saying things along the lines of how she "could be a stripper."  She proceeded to pull her shirt up to show her friends her boobs, and when they weren't looking she pulled down her pants.  They quickly saw this and made her cover herself as this wasn't "that sort of club."  For some reason or another, she stumbled down the bar towards Junior and I and decided to strike up a conversation.

The first thing she wanted to know is if we were cops.  We told her we weren't and she said we were lying.  We said that if we were cops we probably wouldn't be drinking beer, but she still insisted on thinking we were cops since we had been sitting at the bar and not hanging with the dancers.  It was then she began talking to us about something, and she had one of those annoying girl voices that are even more annoying when they are drunk and you can't understand them. Plus she was trying to talk over the music, so it was pretty bad.  It was then she decided to show us her boobs and see if we thought she'd be a good dancer, to which were like "Sure."  What else are you going to say to some chick showing you her boobs?  Apparently she thought we were pretty cool and decided she NEEDED to buy us a shot of Patron.  She started digging in her little purse, and pulled out what was easily the last $24 she had to buy us shots (they were $12 each).  I felt bad, but she was determined that we HAVE the Patron.  So we licked some salt and did our shots.  She then said she'd "be right back" and went back over to her stripper friends but thankfully she never came back.  It wasn't long after that Junior and I determined that our stay at The Cheetah had run its course, and decided to head out into the night.

Once we got outside, we stuck to the previous plan and started walking.  We weren't exactly sure which way we were going, but we could see the Stratosphere was not too far off and headed in that direction.  Eventually we limped back into the Stardust, and continued our beer and gambling festivities.

In the end, I have to say The Cheetah was sort of a let down.  It definitely wasn't as glamorous as the movie made it, but you can easily blame Hollywood for that.  And while the girls were "OK" looking, they weren't as HOT as you would expect Vegas strippers to be. Then again...ugly strippers gotta eat too I guess.

A funny side-story to this:  When we got back home and told our friend "Rick" (*) about our trip to The Cheetah, he insisted that the girl buying us Patron was "definitely" a hooker.  While I don't think she was a hooker, I admit it definitely livens up our story when we say "Yeah a hooker bought us a shot of tequila in a strip club."

I should also add that I got a case of "pink eye" not long after I had gotten home.  The wife said I probably got it at The Cheetah.  "You probably have Stripper Eye." she said.  I'm not sure where I got it, but what I do know is that I should have burned those pants after that gal sat on them.

(*) - Names changed to protect the guilty/innocent.

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