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Chapter Three (Girls Girls Girls)
By noon of our second day in Vegas, we had determined that
gambling sucked ass, and our Casino was growing tired, so now it was time to
start hanging out at a new Casino, a bigger one. The cab driver on the way over
threw caution to the wind. "Watch out for the Shit kickers". By the
time we had reached the Rivera, we realized what he had meant. Cowboys, every
where. Hats, boots and big Belt buckles. The Rivera, in anticipation of shit
kicker paradise had thrown two feet of sawdust on the floor, It still didn't
help. They were all kinds of shit kickers, Skid's (Shit Kickers in decline), SKB
(Shit kicking babes), Skil(Skit Kickers in Love), all kinds of Shit kickers.
Realizing that we would get our asses kicked since we didn't have a cowboy hat
on, we quickly ducked into a ticket office, and bought two tickets for Crazy
Girls, Las Vegas's hottest showgirl show. To avoid any other trouble with the
Shit kickers, it was off to the 24th century to see the Star Trek Exhibit at the
Hilton. They didn't seem to impressed when I asked where was Han Solo. Now it
was time to lay low until crazy girls came along. In stead of risking another
cab ride and potential run in with some more shit kickers, we decided to walk
back to our home. Now with time running out, it was time to head back to the
Rivera. It was time to gamble again. I headed up to the blackjack table and put
down five bucks, only at the Rivera they bet in some sort of strange, moon man
type of way that no one else on the strip does. The dealer was less then
impressed with my lack of skill trying to bet. Finally I had pulled my self
together, and was on a role. Me and Mark were at least 20 dollars up. But the
dealer got hip, and called in a New Dealer, a widow maker. This deal was there
for one sole reason, to bust our balls. Rumor had it she had buried three high
rollers at the Tanger's years ago. With in two minutes she had hit 3 21's.
Before we could regain our winnings at another table, it was time for the show.
We got to our seats for crazy girls early, anticipating a long line for our free
watered down drinks (mental note, 4 scotch and sodas on an empty stomach is not
a good idea). By the time the show was over I was bewildered. Bewildered I had
dropped 20 bucks on crazy girls. If I wanted to see scantly clad woman lip
syncing, I would have gone to see the spice girls. When I went to get my money
back they looked at me like I had just had four scotch and soda's and an empty
stomach. Apparently no one in Las Vegas has heard of the word Refund.
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