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“Yeah, he has an extra bedroom,” I responded…Norm usually gives me the business about my lack of interest in the business around this time of year.

“You have fifty-seven unoccupied houses, two in Vegas, why are you crashed out at Fat Andy’s?”

Frankly, I had forgotten about the houses in Vegas. “That many houses? I didn’t realize…I get lonely, I prefer to stay with friends…”

“Stan, fifty-seven houses, one hundred and four automobiles, a G-4 and a Citation all costing money and nothing you seemingly have any interest in. Besides my fiduciary responsibility as the trustee that you appointed, some of your friends and family are calling me…”

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“C’mon Norm you’re stressing me out…Why don’t you come out and have some fun?”

“I read your blog last week along with a million other people…You don’t really think that the ghost of Howard Hughes is riding shotgun with you these days?”

I looked over at Howard who was indeed sitting next to me in the Benz…Apparently he really likes my car. He mentioned, that had he not died, he would have designed this exact automobile.

“Norm, I was kidding about Howard…I’m delusional not crazy! Anyway, I need to pull into Starbucks and do some writing can we pick this up tomorrow?”

“Stan you have to grow up again…I mean what happened, you used to be a business machine?”

“Money is base Norm…It bores me. To be continued…” I hung up the iphone.

Howard gave me a thumbs-up. “I thought you handled that superlatively,” he grinned that haunting grin.

“Norm means well. And he’s made me like a billion dollars or something, but I just can’t get into it. I like to write, it’s my passion.”

“I know, I felt the same way about flying…You will be confronted with the catalyst for your change (awakening) you know—sooner or later.” Again that haunting grin.

So as I sat at Starbucks updating my facebook status it really was no surprise that the last girl I had wanted to marry, before giving up on the conventional empire building life that Norm wishes I would regain my zeal for, popped up with a comment. I don’t know how Howard knows the answers to everything from curing zombie fever and if I may digress for a moment, I don’t know what’s better, having sex with the zombie girl who keeps on biting me or the antidote of sleeping with the married midget who looks like a mini Megan Fox, but this is, in no small part, why I haven’t gone back to LA…Anyway, Howard was right again, we all have our own path, but there are circumstances that for better or worse influence how we get to where we are meant to go.

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Out of kindness I’ll just call this girl G…

“Vegas baby! I’m in Vegas for my Birthday!” Read the comment on my facebook status.

Since we hadn’t spoken, but for a chance meeting ten years ago in Central Park, for fifteen years, I found this to be an incredible coincidence. But the fact that we had become facebook friends surely meant that there was still some type of closure needed…I accepted her invitation to meet her and her friend at Tao for dinner.

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To her credit she was nice on the phone and she was actually at Tao. When we dated G was the kind of girl who could better deal you at a moment’s notice and leave you hanging in a city where you didn’t know a single person – on your own dime of course. Another plus, she actually looked good for her age. Given 18 to 21 is my preference this too says a lot, but the hint of old age that comes to us all around 40-years-old was in her face. I could see old G not too far in the future—white pearls and all. Finally, the personality still had some of the bubble, which caused me to want to be with her all those years ago, but she was still full of sh*t—knows all the big shots, but doesn’t have a pot to piss in…I always say, even a mutt is cute when it’s a puppy, but when it grows up it’s a mutt.

I should mention here that her friend was about as charming as a wet, mildewed, rag. If there is such a thing as a personality lobotomy—she had one. You know the old saying, “I’d rather have a bottle in front of me than a frontal lobotomy,” well after ten minutes of this spinster in my presence the only thing I wanted to make love to was a bottle of Jack Daniels!

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“You said you’d see me when I’m forty and single with nothing…” G gabbed on…And I did tell her that, but at the time I was trying to get her to understand that it’s hard to find a good guy and if you do, it’s best to close the deal—I didn’t really mean it to be a curse. And by the way, to all of my female readers, if you find a good guy—don’t f**k it up! You don’t want to be this girl. “And I think it’s great that you’ve done everything you’ve ever wanted…” she continued.

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Anyway, the night wouldn’t have been complete without the two of them complaining to the manager about the bill…I kind of wondered if they didn’t have some lesbo thing going on, which might have been interesting to watch, but no such luck, we went up to the club where G gave her friend the rag a tour and they both were too tired, thankfully, to drink or dance.

“We’re exhausted, we’ll go out tomorrow, which is really my birthday anyway.”

“Okay,” I replied.

“Are you alright here on your own?”

This almost caused me to burst out with a laugh. But instead I gave a subdued nod. “Oh yeah…” I looked at all of the young, underdressed guys at the bar who didn’t stand a chance of getting anything but my leftovers once I rolled up…And this is going to be the subject of another blog, but seriously guys if you don’t start dressing better when you go out—you’re putting yourself at risk of a middle-aged writer pulling your chick. “I’ve been in clubs before…”

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We kissed each other on the cheek, the corners of our mouths glanced just slightly, and some of that old chemistry that once caused me to orally pleasure her for five straight hours one night in New York City was there. I could tell this crossed her mind in that moment and then she was gone.

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“Jack and Diet,” I said, cheerfully to the bartender at Tao—the main bar off the dance floor. Some poorly dressed, not so great smelling Pakistani kids had gravitated toward me. And behind me I sensed the presence of a cute girl—the glow from her phone radiated forward as she pretended to text away and squeeze into the spot next to me.

“Hi, where are you from?” she asked.

I glanced down at her low cut top and enjoyed her beautiful olive colored skin for a moment before answering. “Born and raised in Los Angeles. And you?”

She smiled. “You’re very intimidating…I’m kind of nervous right now.”

“Is that why you were hovering behind me for ten minutes pretending to text?” She nodded. And I held up my glass to hers so we could have a little drink to settle things down. “To my new friend,” I toasted genuinely.

We chatted for a few minutes and the youngsters around the bar looked on. Since the word count is getting up there, I’ll forward to the good part. “I’m leaving Las Vegas tomorrow for Philadelphia…I’m getting married, my husband is stationed there.”

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“So this is a one shot deal?” I asked, not wanting to be a home wrecker.

She put her arm around my waist. “Of course it’s a one shot deal. Let’s be honest. You wouldn’t marry a girl like me.”

I stooped slightly and kissed her on the lips. She had soft lips, definitely not a smoker. Our lips parted and I whispered in her ear. “You should see what I wanted to marry.”

She kissed me on the lips and whispered back, “The right one is coming. But the right now one is right here and ready to get out of this place.”

As I walked out of Tao, with a girl whose name I can’t recall as I pen these final words, I felt better about some things that had bothered me for a long time—even though I didn’t know, until Howard mentioned it, that they existed somewhere in my consciousness. I felt a little sad for G, we could have had a nice life together if she had decided to be a better person. Anyway, a few minutes later I was inside of my new little friend and the past was the past. “What a funny magical place Sin City can be,” I thought to myself. “No wonder Howard doesn’t want to leave.” And then trepidation. “What if he’s not the only one?”

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Roxy wanted to go to dinner—and I was confident that I could squeeze it in, drop her back off, she lives way the hell out there, and still meet Jessie “James Super VIP Host” Gibson at Prive by 10:30. And that’s how good a time I had the night before—I was going back to the same club two nights in a row—unheard of in Sin City. Oh, and then I planned on going to Toa and Noir…I call this a Las Vegas Grand Slam…I know Alec Silverman is out there somewhere waiting to correct me factually given I’ve only named three places, but a Las Vegas Grand Slam has nothing to do with places, so not going to happen old sport.

What I hadn’t planned on was a sexual encounter with a zombie. See, I decided to take Roxy to Freemont Street and enjoy some fish tacos outside at Mickie Finnz…Out of the gutter boys I really wanted fish tacos. Anyway, it turns out unbeknownst to either Roxy or myself that there was a dance of the dead going on upstairs—and a good dance of the dead is always preceded by a march of the dead, in this particular instance down Freemont Street. So there I was in the bathroom minding my own business taking care of business…

“Excuse me this is the men’s bathroom,” I said to the extremely attractive, mutilated, Catholic schoolgirl.

“I’m a zombie…I can use either men’s or women’s, because I’m dead—stupid. Nice package by the way.”

I smiled. “Thanks. I mean I’m here with someone…I mean we’re just friends.”

“I’m dead it doesn’t matter. Having sex with a zombie isn’t cheating.” She sat on the sink revealing that zombies apparently don’t wear underwear when they go out dancing.

“Did you follow me in here on purpose?”

“I’m cold…Are you going to warm me up or what?”

I sighed. “What the hell I’m in Vegas.” The problem of course being that I’m a blogger and nothing I do stays anywhere and I might decide to run for political office one day. Well at least I have no skeletons in the closet—maybe a zombie or two.

Now this is where it gets weird, weirder—she was cold and I mean like really dead cold.

“You’re the coldest person I’ve ever had sex with,” I whispered to her romantically as we had sex in the bathroom, which you could actually get in trouble for these days in uptight California.

“Because I’m a zombie…”

“Whatever,” I responded.

“It’s a medical condition in my case—I’m no wanna be…My heart only beats twenty times a minute and my blood pressure is ninety over fifty on a good day.”

I don’t know why, but this really turned me on.

More about the zombie girl later. When I got back to the table Roxy was not hearing any of my stomach ach-story.

“Really, does your lip always bleed when you have an upset stomach?”

“Spider bite…It got me while I was sitting there.”

Note: boys if you decide to have sex with zombie girls they bite, and I mean really hard. So don’t even think about doing this kind of thing when you’re on a date with someone else.

Anyway, I took Roxy all the way home. And it doesn’t appear that we will be hanging out anymore. But come on, who could pass on anything so random. I should get a get out of jail free card for helping the living dead in need.

Prive was off the hook. Not as off the hook as Friday, but JD spinning had brought a lot of people out for a Friday as mentioned one blog and a zombie ago. The table, the bottles and Miles, Bill, and Isaiah and a bunch of girls. Jessie “James Super VIP Host” Gibson and the party was on. I of course talked blogging with the boys and smoked a Don Vicente Cigar. But I couldn’t talk to any of the girls due to the memory of that cold, hot zombie flesh.

“Let’s go to Tao,” said Jessie “James Super VIP Host” Gibson.

“I need to do something,” I responded.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

And then at the exit Jessie ran into someone he needed to talk to. A girl grabbed me by the arm.

“You’re coming with me…Nobody ignores me all night.”

“What? Who are you?”

“That’s what I mean. I’ve been trying to get your attention all night long.”

“Why?”

“I’ve always wanted to be with a man older than my father. And we’re in Vegas.”

“Oh, in that case sorry to have ignored you, but I just had sex in a bathroom with a dead girl.”

She laughed. “You’re funny…That’s almost as big a turn on as old and bald.”

“I’m out of shape as well.” This closed the deal.

So we went up to her room…I’ll spare you the details, suffice it to say she was warm and normal and before zombie girl this would be every mid life crisis guy’s dream.

With a very drunk Jessie “James Super VIP Host” Gibson in my car I headed for Tao. Tao like Prive was going off and as I followed Jessie “James Super VIP Host” Gibson around the room shaking hands and absconding with drinks from each and every bottle table I noticed that I had begun to emulate Jessie’s unusual style of navigating through crowds. At some point we were visiting the DJ booth and I was drumming away on the ledge that surrounds it and grooving a little to the music.

“You’re the “Night Tribe” guy,” said the brunette that had magically appeared by my side.

“You were twelve when I was the “Night Tribe” guy. Who put you up to this?” I looked around the room for whatever friend was not aware that I had just slept with a zombie and a very hot girl in the same night.

“I’m twenty-six, I was at “Night Tribe” for my twenty-first birthday. You bought me and my friends drinks, you were so nice. And it’s so great when you go up and drum.”

“I only did that every now and then. Did I sleep with you?”

“No, I was too shy.”

I laughed. “Trust me you did the right thing. I’m no fan of my own promiscuity.”

Now she laughed. “Shut the f*ck up.”

Smiling at the absurdity. “I’m serious. I actually believe in getting married and being faithful and all that…”

“I’ve been waiting five years to run into you…” putting her arm around me, “I have a limo downstairs. Let’s take a ride.”

And even though I plan to give all this up soon and get married and have a family—I said yes. It’s not like I was on my best behavior all night anyway.

And for all my friends / readers who have never driven up and down the Strip and had sex in the back of a stretch limo, you really don’t know what you’re missing.

“Where have you been?” asked Jessie “James Super VIP Host” Gibson, as I reappeared at the club.

“Limo ride with an old friend.”

He shook his head. “You’re going to run out of places to…Never mind. I thought you wanted to go see your boy Carlos “Pure” Harper over at Noir?”

I nodded. “Let’s go.”

Carlos “Pure” Harper had a bunch of tables going at LAX so he couldn’t really hang, but I had been wanting to introduce him and Jessie “James Super VIP Host” Gibson for a while, so I’m glad they got a chance to vibe.

“Hey,” said the girl at the bar next to me. My boys were vibing so why not?

“Do you have a room here,” I asked.

She nodded.

“Want to just skip the conversation and go upstairs?” I asked. “Not that I don’t love to talk…”

She grabbed my hand and we left the boys to their conversation.

And yes every now and then my behavior gives me pause, but I really liked all of these girls—especially the dead one. I keep thinking one day I’ll just be too old for this…I guess this just wasn’t that day. I love this city! Oh, and to my boy Alec—that’s a Las Vegas Grand Slam!!!

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“Let’s meet at Don Vicente’s and smoke some cigars,” said Dave The Jew.

“Good idea,” said I, as I plowed down the 15 toward Sahara—completely blowing off a very important meeting with Steve Wynn. Okay, the meeting with Steve Wynn is a complete falsehood, but you have to admit the pretext makes for a funny story.

Anyway, check out my blog about Don Vicente’s Cigars—in fact I’ll repost it on Monday when I will be way too tired from the weekend to write anything. So I sat and smoked cigars, really good cigars, with the boys—Dave The Jew, Fat Andy and others. Andy and I have been friends since second grade; just to throw in an extraneous fact meant to cause an endearing feeling about long lasting friendships. At some point Jessie stopped by. He’s not a big smoker, but I lighted him up anyway and Dave The Jew insisted that he drink some good whiskey…And I did too.

Six cigars and half a bottle later I met up with Jessie “James” VIP Host and a friend of his from LA whose name I can’t remember, but I’m sure he knows everyone. At Dos Caminos, which is located in Palazzo…And last week I gave Palazzo a pretty good review. Strange that I had noticed Dos Caminos, but didn’t mention it because I hadn’t eaten there. Anyway, at Dos Caminos we chilled with Executive Chef Roberto Hernandez and ate an incredible assortment of food. Roberto is all of 28 and he’s been cooking since he’s 4-years-old or something. I’m not going to get into a review here, but seriously my new best friend knows how to make some guacamole and chips. Funny, but just a touch of lime really makes a difference apparently. This restaurant is a sleeper—it could easily be way hot one day.

Tao—Jessie “James” VIP Host whisked us through the line. Somehow a few of my mypace and facebook friends managed to join—five very hot young ladies and a huge Samoan named Puki—I think. We sat them at a table and made the rounds. By that I mean I walked around the club with Jessie stealthily observing as he made sure his clients were happy. Not a gargantuan task, given that his clients were sitting at bottle tables at one of Vegas’s hottest clubs. I slipped a little drink in at every stop, so by the time we met up with Jaimee “NapkinNights” Lee I was mildly inebriated. Jaimee / NapkinNights and I have some history—not of a carnal nature. See when I was producing the “Night Tribe Spectacle” at the Rio Hotel and Casino (2003) I gave their website full access, even though I had no idea what a napkin night was. The pics are still on the web!!!

Jaimee accompanied by Sandy “Hot GoGo Dancer” Nguyen and Danny, whom I haven’t named, yet, proved to be the icing on the cake. Tao is a great club and it was going off, with a surprising amount of talent for a Thursday night, but it always comes down to the people—and these three could make a Siberian Gulag bearable. I of course did everything I could to get Sandy to come home with me…Not really, but like the Steve Wynn scenario it would make a great story, she gives an incredible back rub, seriously her hands contain magic and that was at the bar with my clothes on. You see what I’m saying, good people having fun at a club, Vegas at its best.

Today’s adventure is already well underway. But let me just add this—I’LL BE AT PRIVE TONIGHT!!! If you’re around you might want to come along, Jessie “James” VIP Host has a table waiting for us!!!

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So why not a travel blog? This qualifies as work. But what to blog about? I called the Wynn PR department, no spa reviews on such short notice, I was notified. Too bad because I could have used a day at the spa to go along with not writing. Of course I jest! Somewhere around Barstow, James decided we’d be staying at Palazzo. And I’ve never written about this still new hotel…UNTIL NOW!

Now my regular readers know that the style of my writing varies upon my mood, the full moon, cash or lack there of, and on and on….Admittedly, I’m in peculiar mood today, so let’s call this, yet another innovation to the craft of writing, my fast and loose style. Frankly, this could be dangerous to anyone or anything that falls or in this case, past tense, fell into my bull’s eye…So watch out Palazzo!

Actually, I’ve strolled through the Palazzo a few times since it first opened and to be fair, I held off writing about the new addition to The Venetian because it opened its retail in phases and in general I garnered that it opened a bit sooner than optimum—and in a terrible economy. But there’s been plenty of time to get it together so…

Next Day—Tired In A Good Way From Vegas

I liked the Palazzo. I’m not going to do a complete analysis at this point as I was just there overnight to keep James company in some meetings, but here are some highlights: check in was easy. The room was the identical layout as the rooms I’ve stayed in at The Venetian many times—and I like this mini-suite layout, in this case the view was also great. I can’t be sure if it was just the change of scenery or the lighter color scheme and different furniture, but I think I like the Palazzo room more than I like The Venetian room. However, some of my best times in Vegas have happened in The Venetian rooms, if you catch my drift, so no disrespect intended.

Tao at the Palazzo / Venetian remains one of my favorite spots for both dinner and nightlife. The club wasn’t open Wednesday night, but the restaurant was, and dinner was as good or better than the last twenty times I’ve dined there—they’ve never had an off night and our waiter this particular night was a Rock Star. After dinner I chose to smoke a cigar with my old buddy Fat Andy at the bar in the middle of the Palazzo casino floor. The crowd was light, welcome to the recession, but the spot itself has a good open vibe—cute waitresses always help. It would be better if they dimmed the lights…This is not as easy as it sound because the Palazzo is a light and airy casino floor with very high ceilings, but it could be done and it would be transformative—a new place to hangout would emerge in the middle of the casino.

Bellagio still has market cornered when it comes to holiday decorations, but Palazzo’s Thanksgiving decorations are spectacular in both of the large atrium areas. Because Palazzo by design is a little on the austere side the decorations warm it up—having a greater impact than they would at most hotels. On this, my advice is to keep up the good work. Palazzo would be well served to be decorated for every season / occasion throughout the year.

As can happen in Vegas, my gamble of tagging along with James led to a meeting of my own the next day. This was an early lunch at First café in a section of The Venetian that I had not strolled previously. I’ll save the review for later, but the café’s windows provide for a very enjoyable view of the strip. Sometimes it’s great to not feel like you’re inside of a casino—this place does the trick. Oh, and that chef with the ponytail and orange Crocs was sitting two tables over, a sign that the food would be good. It was…Make sure you start with the pretzels! Good company, good atmosphere, good food—GOOD TRIP.

As we rolled down the highway back to Los Angeles I thought about my long and most enjoyable history with Las Vegas. I also thought about the effects of the recession on Sin City and in some ways what’s gone on in Vegas is a sin. The “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas,” era of success made Sin City lazy—not in terms of construction, but in terms of marketing and customer service. As things went bad the attitude changed some and the customer experience factor went up, but not enough—yet. Because my beloved Sin City is oh so much about making money, I’m betting that my brothers and sisters there will see the neon light soon. IT’S ABOUT GIVING GUESTS A BETTER TIME THAN THEY COULD POSSIBLY HAVE ANYWHERE ELSE…AND FOR LESS MONEY.

You know now that I’ve committed these thoughts to writing, I have one more—I think I’ll head back to Vegas next week and stay the weekend. If you feel like hanging out and getting into trouble I’ll let you know my plans in a few days. Trouble Baby…

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