Windsor: Part Deux
If you're just joining us, scroll down and read the previous post first, as this is part deux of the weekend recap...
6:00 PM: Deemo and I don’t even bother going to the hotel, choosing instead to park at the casino. Little do I know that we would not be returning until it was time to leave on Sunday, not even to take our bags out of the car.
6:03 PM: Let me just say real quickly that I think it’s hilarious how much we make fun of Canada for absolutely no reason. In fact, I think that’s the reason we make fun of them so much, because we really have no reason to dislike them at all. They’re one of the most peaceful cultures that has ever lived on the planet. Speaking of which, do you know why Canadians only have sex doggy-style?
6:04 PM: So they can both watch the hockey game.
6:09 PM: We start off with some horse races on the nickel slot floor, to get our gambling blood flowing. I have two hundred Canadian dollars in my pocket. It’s extremely dangerous when you’re carrying money that looks to you like Monopoly money. This could very well set the world indoor record for the fastest $200.
6:33 PM: I’m sitting down at my first real casino table. Oh, yeah. This can’t miss. Three card poker is the game, ten dollar minimum bet. Hey, I’ve got Wagner by my side. What could possibly go wrong?
6:48 PM: Down to my last five bucks out of eighty. Well, that was fun.
6:49 PM: Straight! 6 to 1 payout on my pair plus bet! We’re back in business…
6:51 PM: Another straight! I think I could used to this…
6:59 PM: We had agreed to meet up at 7 pm to determine a plan. Hitting three card straights like it’s my job sounds like a plan to me, but this weekend is about Yaney. So I stroll to the cashier, and somehow, by the grace of the gambling gods, I’m up $225. Ok, then.
7:42 PM: Beer towers at The Honest Lawyer. Oh yeah, it would probably be smart to eat dinner too, huh? Details, details…
8:46 PM: Shots of Jaeger on the house for the whole bachelor party. No, not Jaeger bombs. Shots of Jaeger. Oh, yeah. This can’t miss.
8:49 PM: It hasn’t occurred to me yet that Becky is the only girl at the bachelor party.
8:51 PM: It just occurred to me that Becky is the only girl at the bachelor party.
8:56 PM: I just dropped my cell phone in the toilet! Nooooooooooo!!!!! I immediately open it up to see a blank white screen. Son of bitchfaces. This very nearly ruins my weekend. Not the least of which because I was taking notes in the phone’s digital notepad for this very column. So, if the rest of this sounds confusing, or like I made it up, that’s why...right. That’s why.
9:38 PM: The hour is upon us. Time to hit up a local den of iniquity. Jason’s is the destination. I’m glad some people know where the hell they’re going this weekend, because I’m pretty much worthless to the group as a whole.
9:53 PM: Believe it or not, this is my first time entering a strip club. I like what they’ve done with the place.
9:59 PM: Since I’m at a high-class joint and all, I feel the need to order an amaretto on the rocks. Two minutes later, the waitress hands me a four ounce shot glass full of ice, with amaretto filling in the cracks.
Waitress: “That’ll be $8.25.�
Me: “Um, you can go ahead and bring me a Molson while you’re at it, because I’m going to be done with this before you get back to the bar.�
Seriously, I’ve taken cough medicine in bigger doses.
10:15 PM: We’re taking up a collection to get Yaney on stage. Oh, yeah. This can’t miss.
10:23 PM: I’m officially in money-is-no-object mode. Beers and lap dances for all.
10:28 PM: Just put the battery back in my cell phone, trying the “let’s see if it’ll dry out and magically work again� method. A brief glimmer, then a blank white screen. Damn it all.
10:37 PM: This really is a unique experience. I’m sitting in a club with friends, drinking beers, chatting away as if everything is normal, and then I look up and a woman is on stage taking her clothes off. Meanwhile, for a mere twenty dollars, I can see any one of these women walking by naked in a private room. Maybe Canada isn’t so bad after all.
10:59 PM: Becky definitely needs a lap dance. That much is clear now. Let’s see, the Spanish-looking one in the teal dress will do.
11:04 PM: I’ve got to hand it to Becky. She’s taking this pretty well.
11:06 PM: Wow. That was priceless. Best twenty Canadian dollars I’ve ever spent.
11:23 PM: Yaney is now up on stage in a giant stiletto heel-shaped chair awaiting his fate at the hands of four curvaceous Jason’s employees.
11:25 PM: Yaney now has his hands on the chair and pants down, getting whipped by four strippers. Good luck explaining that one to the fiancée. Let me emphasize here that the only time I ever want to see Yaney’s ass is with four strippers surrounding him, whipping him with a belt. And I mean FOUR strippers. Not three.
11:43 PM: Somehow we’re at a different strip club now. Not too sure how that happened. It’s getting to be blur time again. I think the thing that fascinates me most about these places is the way you’ll see one of these girls just walking around the floor nonchalantly, just another employee, then you turn your head, and they’re naked and straddling someone who’s sitting three feet in front of you. How many places can you see something like that?
11:49 PM: I think I’m in the middle of one of my drunken philosophical ramblings with Becky. God, I’m a dick.
12:00 AM: Somehow we’re back at the casino. Not too sure how that happened either. Now I’m in possibly an even worse situation than I was before. I already won money, so not only am I confident, but now I’m drunk, so money means even less to me. Diving into probably my thirteenth Molson of the night.
12:05 AM: Back to horse races. The horse race game isn’t about the money. It’s about making bets with seemingly meaningless Windsor Casino tokens, then standing up in your seat and screaming at the top of your lungs for your horse as he comes around the bend. For some reason, I feel the need to tell Becky at the beginning of every race, “If these two horses win…we’re going to be rich people.�
1:00 AM: Becky and I wander the casino floor for a while looking for everyone, because I think we’re heading back to the hotel. For some stupid reason, I’m getting the bright idea that it’s time for me to take my winnings back to the poker table. Easy, Rod…
1:15 AM: Well, that was a quick sixty bucks.
1:46 AM: I’m pretty sure everyone left, but it just dawned on me: I’m at the casino. I’m in Windsor. This isn’t the real world. Nothing bad is going to happen. I can just sit at the table and keep playing all night and somehow everything will work out. That’s what the Molson is telling me anyway.
1:52 AM: Just got this text message from Mark: "You guys need to leave town more often." I know exactly what that means.
2:13 AM: Back at the Three Card Poker table and I’ve just been informed that the casino stops serving beer at 2:00. Wait a minute…I’m in the middle of Canada’s answer to Sin City, where I can gamble on whatever I want, give women money to get naked, and I can’t have a beer because it’s after 2 in the morning? In what way does this make sense?
2:14 AM: Actually, on second thought, this is probably the best thing that could have possibly happened to me right now.
2:30 AM: Apparently my luck from earlier was only the beginning. I really like this game.
2:47 AM: Are the odds of drawing a three card straight 1 out of 6? Because the way I'm hitting, it sure as hell seems like it.
3:00 AM: I just looked down and saw four $100 chips in front of me, along with a stack of $25 chips. Somehow, I’m up about $600. Alright, then. Now if only the girl sitting next to me that I’ve been hitting on isn’t with some huge guy that’s about to step out of the shadows and snap my neck, I’ll be all set.
3:12 AM: Well then, apparently she’s here on a date. I’ll be waiting for my neck to snap any minute now.
3:43 AM: Trying to guess the Arab-looking dealer's country of origin, and I'm just spitting out random Middle Eastern countries. I'm sure she appreciates that. God, I'm a dick.
4:27 AM: Finally meet up with the few people that are left to head back to the hotel. Well, I guess I shouldn’t say back to the hotel, considering we haven’t been there yet. I cash out for $677 American. Subtract the $200 I started with, along with the money I spent in five hours at the bar and strip clubs and…WOW. What the hell just happened? I don't know, but I'm getting the hell out of here before they change their minds.
5:00 AM: So, apparently coming back from the casino at 5 am wasn’t the normal thing to do, considering everyone is already asleep. I curl up on the floor with nothing in the way of pillows or blankets, and couldn’t care less.
5:01 AM: Me: Deemo, you want to go back to the casino?
Deemo: Dude, I can’t. I’m cleaned out.
Me: What if I give you a hundred to play with?
Deemo: (A grimace of pain, followed by a grin of evil delight)…Alright. Let’s go.
5:05 AM: Walking down the street, on our way BACK to the casino. What in God’s holy name is wrong with us?
5:32 AM: Eating breakfast because it’s been almost twelve hours since I ate last and I’m actually starting to sober up. Hey, there’s the girl I was hitting on at the table earlier! And…ok, I guess her date is a huge guy who could easily snap my neck. Let’s get the hell out of here, shall we?
5:49 AM: Bellying up to the poker table again. I found my same dealer from earlier. Brent’s the man.
6:03 AM: I’m down fifty, and don’t give a shit. We’re trading Wedding Crasher lines with the dealer. God, life is good.
6:30 AM: The hundred I started with is history. Eh. Whatever. Deemo’s up, so the trip back was worth it. I think I’m just now getting tired.
6:31 AM: Yep. Just hit the brick wall. Wow. I might actually pass out with my head on the green felt.
7:00 AM: The front doors to Casino Windsor burst open and out stumble Deemo and I, rubbing our eyes, and buttoning up our shirts because it still hasn’t occurred to us to go to the car and get our coats for the half mile walk back to the hotel. We look up, across the river, and see the glass skyscrapers of downtown Detroit glistening in the early morning sunlight. There’s something about the way the rising sun hits the red and blue windows that still sport the logo of Super Bowl XL that takes us aback for a second, and gives us a “holy crap, did all that seriously just happen� moment. Looking at my watch, I realize out loud, “I have to be at work in 24 hours.� Reality is tapping at the door, but we’re looking through the peephole and ignoring it. We’re well aware of the consequences that are coming. We know how miserable the next two and a half days of our lives are going to be. But right now, we don’t give a shit. We’re strolling along the banks of
the Detroit River with wads of money in our pockets, at the tail end of a thirty-hour bender, living the mid-twenties dream. This is the kind of shit that makes you shake your head and think, “God, it’s just good to be alive.� Maybe some day I’ll look back and be ashamed of spending a weekend like this. But right now…I’ll take it.
6:00 PM: Deemo and I don’t even bother going to the hotel, choosing instead to park at the casino. Little do I know that we would not be returning until it was time to leave on Sunday, not even to take our bags out of the car.
6:03 PM: Let me just say real quickly that I think it’s hilarious how much we make fun of Canada for absolutely no reason. In fact, I think that’s the reason we make fun of them so much, because we really have no reason to dislike them at all. They’re one of the most peaceful cultures that has ever lived on the planet. Speaking of which, do you know why Canadians only have sex doggy-style?
6:04 PM: So they can both watch the hockey game.
6:09 PM: We start off with some horse races on the nickel slot floor, to get our gambling blood flowing. I have two hundred Canadian dollars in my pocket. It’s extremely dangerous when you’re carrying money that looks to you like Monopoly money. This could very well set the world indoor record for the fastest $200.
6:33 PM: I’m sitting down at my first real casino table. Oh, yeah. This can’t miss. Three card poker is the game, ten dollar minimum bet. Hey, I’ve got Wagner by my side. What could possibly go wrong?
6:48 PM: Down to my last five bucks out of eighty. Well, that was fun.
6:49 PM: Straight! 6 to 1 payout on my pair plus bet! We’re back in business…
6:51 PM: Another straight! I think I could used to this…
6:59 PM: We had agreed to meet up at 7 pm to determine a plan. Hitting three card straights like it’s my job sounds like a plan to me, but this weekend is about Yaney. So I stroll to the cashier, and somehow, by the grace of the gambling gods, I’m up $225. Ok, then.
7:42 PM: Beer towers at The Honest Lawyer. Oh yeah, it would probably be smart to eat dinner too, huh? Details, details…
8:46 PM: Shots of Jaeger on the house for the whole bachelor party. No, not Jaeger bombs. Shots of Jaeger. Oh, yeah. This can’t miss.
8:49 PM: It hasn’t occurred to me yet that Becky is the only girl at the bachelor party.
8:51 PM: It just occurred to me that Becky is the only girl at the bachelor party.
8:56 PM: I just dropped my cell phone in the toilet! Nooooooooooo!!!!! I immediately open it up to see a blank white screen. Son of bitchfaces. This very nearly ruins my weekend. Not the least of which because I was taking notes in the phone’s digital notepad for this very column. So, if the rest of this sounds confusing, or like I made it up, that’s why...right. That’s why.
9:38 PM: The hour is upon us. Time to hit up a local den of iniquity. Jason’s is the destination. I’m glad some people know where the hell they’re going this weekend, because I’m pretty much worthless to the group as a whole.
9:53 PM: Believe it or not, this is my first time entering a strip club. I like what they’ve done with the place.
9:59 PM: Since I’m at a high-class joint and all, I feel the need to order an amaretto on the rocks. Two minutes later, the waitress hands me a four ounce shot glass full of ice, with amaretto filling in the cracks.
Waitress: “That’ll be $8.25.�
Me: “Um, you can go ahead and bring me a Molson while you’re at it, because I’m going to be done with this before you get back to the bar.�
Seriously, I’ve taken cough medicine in bigger doses.
10:15 PM: We’re taking up a collection to get Yaney on stage. Oh, yeah. This can’t miss.
10:23 PM: I’m officially in money-is-no-object mode. Beers and lap dances for all.
10:28 PM: Just put the battery back in my cell phone, trying the “let’s see if it’ll dry out and magically work again� method. A brief glimmer, then a blank white screen. Damn it all.
10:37 PM: This really is a unique experience. I’m sitting in a club with friends, drinking beers, chatting away as if everything is normal, and then I look up and a woman is on stage taking her clothes off. Meanwhile, for a mere twenty dollars, I can see any one of these women walking by naked in a private room. Maybe Canada isn’t so bad after all.
10:59 PM: Becky definitely needs a lap dance. That much is clear now. Let’s see, the Spanish-looking one in the teal dress will do.
11:04 PM: I’ve got to hand it to Becky. She’s taking this pretty well.
11:06 PM: Wow. That was priceless. Best twenty Canadian dollars I’ve ever spent.
11:23 PM: Yaney is now up on stage in a giant stiletto heel-shaped chair awaiting his fate at the hands of four curvaceous Jason’s employees.
11:25 PM: Yaney now has his hands on the chair and pants down, getting whipped by four strippers. Good luck explaining that one to the fiancée. Let me emphasize here that the only time I ever want to see Yaney’s ass is with four strippers surrounding him, whipping him with a belt. And I mean FOUR strippers. Not three.
11:43 PM: Somehow we’re at a different strip club now. Not too sure how that happened. It’s getting to be blur time again. I think the thing that fascinates me most about these places is the way you’ll see one of these girls just walking around the floor nonchalantly, just another employee, then you turn your head, and they’re naked and straddling someone who’s sitting three feet in front of you. How many places can you see something like that?
11:49 PM: I think I’m in the middle of one of my drunken philosophical ramblings with Becky. God, I’m a dick.
12:00 AM: Somehow we’re back at the casino. Not too sure how that happened either. Now I’m in possibly an even worse situation than I was before. I already won money, so not only am I confident, but now I’m drunk, so money means even less to me. Diving into probably my thirteenth Molson of the night.
12:05 AM: Back to horse races. The horse race game isn’t about the money. It’s about making bets with seemingly meaningless Windsor Casino tokens, then standing up in your seat and screaming at the top of your lungs for your horse as he comes around the bend. For some reason, I feel the need to tell Becky at the beginning of every race, “If these two horses win…we’re going to be rich people.�
1:00 AM: Becky and I wander the casino floor for a while looking for everyone, because I think we’re heading back to the hotel. For some stupid reason, I’m getting the bright idea that it’s time for me to take my winnings back to the poker table. Easy, Rod…
1:15 AM: Well, that was a quick sixty bucks.
1:46 AM: I’m pretty sure everyone left, but it just dawned on me: I’m at the casino. I’m in Windsor. This isn’t the real world. Nothing bad is going to happen. I can just sit at the table and keep playing all night and somehow everything will work out. That’s what the Molson is telling me anyway.
1:52 AM: Just got this text message from Mark: "You guys need to leave town more often." I know exactly what that means.
2:13 AM: Back at the Three Card Poker table and I’ve just been informed that the casino stops serving beer at 2:00. Wait a minute…I’m in the middle of Canada’s answer to Sin City, where I can gamble on whatever I want, give women money to get naked, and I can’t have a beer because it’s after 2 in the morning? In what way does this make sense?
2:14 AM: Actually, on second thought, this is probably the best thing that could have possibly happened to me right now.
2:30 AM: Apparently my luck from earlier was only the beginning. I really like this game.
2:47 AM: Are the odds of drawing a three card straight 1 out of 6? Because the way I'm hitting, it sure as hell seems like it.
3:00 AM: I just looked down and saw four $100 chips in front of me, along with a stack of $25 chips. Somehow, I’m up about $600. Alright, then. Now if only the girl sitting next to me that I’ve been hitting on isn’t with some huge guy that’s about to step out of the shadows and snap my neck, I’ll be all set.
3:12 AM: Well then, apparently she’s here on a date. I’ll be waiting for my neck to snap any minute now.
3:43 AM: Trying to guess the Arab-looking dealer's country of origin, and I'm just spitting out random Middle Eastern countries. I'm sure she appreciates that. God, I'm a dick.
4:27 AM: Finally meet up with the few people that are left to head back to the hotel. Well, I guess I shouldn’t say back to the hotel, considering we haven’t been there yet. I cash out for $677 American. Subtract the $200 I started with, along with the money I spent in five hours at the bar and strip clubs and…WOW. What the hell just happened? I don't know, but I'm getting the hell out of here before they change their minds.
5:00 AM: So, apparently coming back from the casino at 5 am wasn’t the normal thing to do, considering everyone is already asleep. I curl up on the floor with nothing in the way of pillows or blankets, and couldn’t care less.
5:01 AM: Me: Deemo, you want to go back to the casino?
Deemo: Dude, I can’t. I’m cleaned out.
Me: What if I give you a hundred to play with?
Deemo: (A grimace of pain, followed by a grin of evil delight)…Alright. Let’s go.
5:05 AM: Walking down the street, on our way BACK to the casino. What in God’s holy name is wrong with us?
5:32 AM: Eating breakfast because it’s been almost twelve hours since I ate last and I’m actually starting to sober up. Hey, there’s the girl I was hitting on at the table earlier! And…ok, I guess her date is a huge guy who could easily snap my neck. Let’s get the hell out of here, shall we?
5:49 AM: Bellying up to the poker table again. I found my same dealer from earlier. Brent’s the man.
6:03 AM: I’m down fifty, and don’t give a shit. We’re trading Wedding Crasher lines with the dealer. God, life is good.
6:30 AM: The hundred I started with is history. Eh. Whatever. Deemo’s up, so the trip back was worth it. I think I’m just now getting tired.
6:31 AM: Yep. Just hit the brick wall. Wow. I might actually pass out with my head on the green felt.
7:00 AM: The front doors to Casino Windsor burst open and out stumble Deemo and I, rubbing our eyes, and buttoning up our shirts because it still hasn’t occurred to us to go to the car and get our coats for the half mile walk back to the hotel. We look up, across the river, and see the glass skyscrapers of downtown Detroit glistening in the early morning sunlight. There’s something about the way the rising sun hits the red and blue windows that still sport the logo of Super Bowl XL that takes us aback for a second, and gives us a “holy crap, did all that seriously just happen� moment. Looking at my watch, I realize out loud, “I have to be at work in 24 hours.� Reality is tapping at the door, but we’re looking through the peephole and ignoring it. We’re well aware of the consequences that are coming. We know how miserable the next two and a half days of our lives are going to be. But right now, we don’t give a shit. We’re strolling along the banks of
the Detroit River with wads of money in our pockets, at the tail end of a thirty-hour bender, living the mid-twenties dream. This is the kind of shit that makes you shake your head and think, “God, it’s just good to be alive.� Maybe some day I’ll look back and be ashamed of spending a weekend like this. But right now…I’ll take it.
posted by Steve at 5:50 PM
6 Comments:
beautiful
I've never seen so many dead hookers before in my life
sounds about like the trip I took to Windsor a few years back. Minus the strippers and winning money. I do remember something about Molson and a casino though.
Yep...you guys need to leave town more often. Its beneficial for all parties involved....believe me
Sounds like a fun weekend. Do you need a new cell phone?
I can totally relate to what you're going through your mind. Red Mustang
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