The Professional Yacker

Based on a True Story

Posted by MikeE

You've just arrived into town when you receive a text message, "Come to Vegas with me! I'm leaving today."

Now, she might have meant it as a joke seeing as you've always drunk dialed her the five to six times per year you're out there, but she would have never expected your response: "I'm already out here, baby!"

"OMG! Are you serious?!"
"Do I text like I'm joking? Call me when you get in town."

The day slowly passes as one of your closest friends with her entourage of L.A. babes makes their way up. She's spent the entire four-hour drive talking you up and saying how you know the city inside out. Meanwhile, you've had the buffet at M Resort before hitting the strip, were wined and dined by cougars at Foundation Room's Tapas Tuesday, and have now hit Raffles Cafe for the evening. Pancakes for dinner? Who could resist?

Dinner's finished and still no phone call. You start texting:

"ETA?"
"Driving by that big thermometer thing," she responds.

By now it's 10pm and assuming a cushion of half an hour or so for them to check in and get ready, you're easily looking at another two hours. Pai gow poker sounds like a good way to pass the time right about now. Mandalay's is looking packed at a $15 minimum so you walk over to see what's going on in high limit. For a high limit room to have pai gow is already a rarity, but at a $25 minimum? Sweet!

The drinks start to flow. You order every kind of top shelf liquor you can think of mixing whiskey with wine, soda with Stoli. Finally, you feel your phone vibrating in your pocket: "We're here. Where do we meet you?" You color in and text back, "The Palms. Moon is the place to be tonight."

But there's just this one problem. As you try to rush your way to the taxi stand, you realize you've got this terribly uncomfortable pain in your stomach just sitting there. You walk more vigorously hoping to burp, but to no avail.

Fucking pancakes.

A cab is hailed and the driver books it to Palms. You swear you're going to explode. At the porte cochere, your friends are waiting with big smiles on everyone's face. You fake it as though there's nothing wrong and make your way over to the nightclub.

Thankfully, the line is moving quickly and you're on your way up. First stop isn't the bathroom, but the bar - a round of shots for everyone and a Perrier for yourself. The girls give you a hard time as everyone makes their way to the dance floor. There, enthralled by the crowd, the smoke machines, and the open ceiling, the ladies never even notice that you've made your escape to the bathroom.

Perrier in the left hand, tip in the right and into the tip jar of the bathroom attendant: "Buddy, you got any Peptol?" He acts quickly opening a secret stash below the sinks where extra bottles of water and meds are a plenty. Bathroom attendants may force themselves on you and guilt you out of a tip, but sometimes there isn't a single person in town more deserving of one.

He doesn't hesitate and knocks on one of the stalls to make sure it's unoccupied. You go in and forcibly down the Peptol and the Perrier in no time, take a seat on the toilet, and nurse the extra bottled water the attendant gave you.

Ten minutes later and you get a lump in your throat, you start sweating profusely, your mouth starts salivating, and you begin to smile. Tonight's going to be a good night after all.

Flush the toilet and open the stall door feeling like a new man. The bathroom attendant has already got mouthwash poured and mints at the ready.

Back on the dance floor...

"Where were you?"
"Ran into the manager. Chatted up with him for a bit."



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Comments & Discussion


Damn, that's smooth.

Not to be mean, but what is so great about this story? LoL Maybe this is just nothing out of the norm for me. It's not exactly a "wild and crazy" adventure.

That is so true about the bathroom attendant. He has saved my ass (literally) way more than once. I always tip that dude, even when I don't need to. I consider it paying forward.

What's so great about this story for me is:

1.) I never liked bathroom attendants, now I see the point of them
2.) Short, sweet, entertaining
3.) Mike E knows how to 'man up' and take a night out in Vegas like a CHAMP!

I'm not sure which way it came out, but what this story teaches me is that each Mike E is namedropping he's actually making a euphemism for using the toilet.

Next time he tells me that he was talking to Sheldon on the House Phone, I will be much less impressed.

Nice story, and definitely have to agree bathroom attendants are way underrated. I even miss the one that IP used to have pre-Harrahs. Picking up rolaids, pepto, mints, gum, talk about convienience.

just to let you know they've taken the pai gow poker tables out the Crystal Room at Mandalay Bay.

Agreed. Smooth as silk Mike.

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