You must have figured out by now that I was in Vegas for Spring Break. Not the whole break because that would mean bankruptcy for this guy. Me, my brother and a bunch of BU people make the trip to Vegas every year to watch two full days of basketball. Age ranges probably from mid 20s until mid 60s, so it’s a pretty eclectic group. All of us go there to watch some basketball and while there are no games going on we go our separate ways. Most old guys stay in the Casino and gamble until they need to go drink their Metamucil and watch Matlock or Golden Girls, but some of us guys venture ourselves out in the Vegas nightlife. Every year is a new adventure. I am going to tell some stories now and as I remember more stories I will try to post them.
Tall Comments
Let me start by saying that there were a lot of tall comments in Vegas. Truth is one of the reasons for more comments also had to do with the presence of my taller brother. People would look at him, gasp in awe, then see another tall specimen and then yell some expletive obvious comment, such as “you are f***ing tall!” No way Sherlock, I have never figured that out. According to my twitter (I used it to tally up the comments) there were a total of 32 comments involving either mine or my brother’s height. These were the comments that I remember and I would guess that there were at least 10 comments that I either forgot to tally or forgot it happened.
Based on previous experiments it is clear that a higher number of tall people and level of alcohol consumption are directly related to the number of tall comments, so this numbers were no surprise. Nevertheless these numbers are astonishing. Let me break this down to you. I arrived there Wednesday afternoon and right after getting there we went out. We arrived at the strip at about 7 pm and stayed there until about 3 am. That’s roughly 8 hours. On Thursday we stayed in and watched games, and aside of one comment (to be discussed next) there were no obvious observations directed to either me or my brother. Friday morning/afternoon we watched games in the morning, again little to no comments. At about 11 pm we leave for Midget Wrestling and hit the clubs at about 1 am. We go back to the hotel at about 4 am. So here we have roughly 6 hours of interactions with drunks. Adding up these number we have a total of 14 hours and somewhere between 32 and 42 comments. That’s an average of 2.28 to 3 comments per hour, or one in at least every half hour. I think this is fascinating.
Larry is taller the you!
One of the comments about my tallness was not so much a comment but bragging. As I walk away from the bathroom back to our table to watch more NCAA games this guy walking past me yells: “I bet you thought you were going to be the tallest guy here!” I slowed down, somewhat confused, and ask: “What do you mean?” I asked that because I thought that maybe he was going to point out to me that my brother is taller than me, but then I realized that he was talking about his friend, Larry. “You thought you were going to be the tallest one here didn’t you? Well, you are not buddy! Larry is the tallest, he is 7’4″!” I look at him confused and say “well, congrats to Larry!” I was not sure what to say to this guy.
I am still puzzled by this guy. The guy bragging about Larry the giant is 5’9″ tops. He comes to me in a very confrontational tone and informs me that I am not the tallest person there (which I already knew, because even without Super Larry my brothers is bigger than me). What exactly was I supposed to say? Was this a tallest man competition and I was not aware of it? Are there prizes in this tall man competition? A lot of questions arose in my head when tiny man came to brag about his awkwardly gigantic friend. This tiny man was really excited to be friends with Larry and had to tell other people that he knew a 7 foot 4 inches guy. As my dad would say, he was “gozando com o pau dos outros.” I wonder if I have any friends that are around just because I am tall so they can brag about me to people. “Yeah, I know I am 5’4″ but I have this friend that is 6’9″ and that makes me feel better about my lack of height!”
Kansas tourist
This one is not height related but it is worth noting. Me and my brother are waiting in line for the breakfast buffet when this guy in front of us start talking to us. He asks us where we are from because he was curious how we found out about the Orleans, a place known to locals but not as well-known to tourists. We told him we were from Kansas, which is a lot easier than saying we are from Brazil then explaining what the hell we are doing at the Orleans in Vegas, and then he decided to share a bit of personal information: “Kansas, yeah…I have been there before. You probably know the place…Leavenworth…” awkward pause. Do you really have to tell strangers that you are a convicted felon? Well, whatever, he is a nice guy, we keep talking.
“Kansas weather is crazy,” the guy says. “I remember that it was really cold and the windows of the mess hall were broken. The cold wind would come in and just kill us! I mean, we brought in all our clothing and two or three gloves to keep warm. We would get our food and go straight back to the cell!” Nice story right? But what the hell am I supposed to say to this guy. I say what most people would not: “Yeah man, I totally know what you mean!” By totally knowing what he meant I actually meant that I know what cold is, but that’s about it. Who tells random people at a buffet line prison stories? Only in Vegas…
More to come
As my Vegas memories get back to me I will write them down here. There are some good stories, some tall related and some not. I hope you enjoyed my first recollections and stay tuned for more.
Cheers,
Dos
Big People, Little World 