Nope. There was no joy in the lot of life this week, for the closest your friend Chewie got to brunch (read: decent meal) this weekend was a shrimp cocktail on Saturday morning.
At The Hard Rock Cafe.
In Atlantic City.
Yes, your intrepid hairball traversed not one, not two, but three states (and a f*cking District) just to celebrate the castration (editor's note: substitute "pending nuptials" in Wookettemania) of two old friends. And whom might these two "friends" be? None other than 2/3 of the debacle that was Annex Records: Guy Mysterioso and Sam Mason. Thats right, kids - The man that filled the 20-year-old mind of yours truly with delusions of rock 'n roll mediocrity and all of its trappings, and the man who would have happily embezzled it.
As with any large party where everybody is looking out for everybody else in the group and it's all about making sure that everybody has a good time - I was impressed by how quickly my cell had formed, detached itself, and begun inventory and syncronization. By the time I arrived and had my bags down, my introduction to the field consisted of little more than a nod and a point.
There was The Kid (looking way better than when I left him at The Ranch all those years ago), Ray Babbitt Jr., and Sir Terrence, who, upon shaking hands introduced himself as "the new me" began sweating profusely and showed me a cell phone camera montage of the 40-story OAR billboard (headshot by headshot) across from his office that helps him vomit when and if neccesary during his workday. A friend indeed.
Great. Now what?
The tables? Nar. Posted (or assumed posted...never really checked...) at every table was a sign that read: NO WOOKIES. Prejudiced against wookies? Can you believe dat? In 'iss day and age? A Casino...prejudiced against wookies?
I was, however, allowed to watch, and in doing so, delighted in Ray Babbitt Jr.'s exaction of my subconscious revenge. Blackjack: Winner! Roulette: Winner! Those two tiny little girls from the batcherlorette party: numbers for later in the City, right? Push! Slots: Winner! Our time at the tables was just like in Rain Man - Ray Jr. winning us tons of cash, and Valeria Golino sitting on my lap, begging me to marry her.
So that was it for the weekend. Me not gambling, and others doing so, but betting nothing past the original ten dollar principle that they paid down on Friday night.
End of story.
(Unless you tune in for part 2 of 2: The Mysterioso / Mason Atlantic City Batchelor Party Is Filthy and Depraved)
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment