Thursday, June 09, 2005

Atlantic City: Not so lucky

Went to AC over Memorial Day weekend, lost a decent amount of money on the tables. I pretty much expected this, as I've never really won any money gambling save for the occasional friendly poker game. There was that time that I won $20 bucks from a certain Yankees fan when I bet him the Sox would come back from down 2-0 last year in the ALCS. Don't feel bad for him, the kid made like two grand this weekend. However, as it was a bachelor party, the focus of the weekend was, of course, women.

The first night included the mandatory trip to Hooters, followed by a few strip clubs, then the casinos. I ended up talking to a female at the Tropicana on Saturday night. I was more than slightly inebriated, and I decided to embellish the resume a little on site. Yes, I told her that I was a lawyer (I figured while "law student" makes the cut in my local bars, AC is the big time). This ploy was going well, until her friends showed up and started shooting my game down big time. OK, they just asked simple questions, and I said whatever first came to my mind. As you can imagine, lots of contradictions and missing links in my story. She then told me that her Dad was CEO of Waterford Crystal, which I'm thinking now was probably a lie in response to my lie. Why you ask? Earlier she told me her Dad looked a lot like Tony Danza. Can you imagine this man running a distinguished, old-fashioned English company? No, it's definitely someone who looks more like this, or even this. Tony Danza, definitely not the boss here (just too easy, I apologize). After the inquisition of her friends, my game fell completely apart. Tre 0, Jersey girls 1

Leaving the casino, we passed another attractive female on the street. This wasn't the slow burn like Waterford Crystal, this was the instant flameout.

Me (all words slurred): "Wow, I'd love to have sex with a girl like that. What's up?"
Her (very clear, very loud): "Fuck you, asshole."
Me: "Oh, I love it when you talk dirty, baby."

For some reason this did not work. Tre 0, Jersey girls 2

Then we decided to get strippers in our hotel rooms. However, we all forgot our Rest of the World/Jersey thesauri (what's the plural of thesaurus). In Jersey, apparently "strippers" actually means "hookers." Not really what we were in the market for. These girls were hot. I mean really hot. Not the "attractive hot", but the "oh man I can smell the gonorrhea from across the room" hot. Needless to say, this did not go well. Tre 0, Jersey girls 2 (Jersey girls do not get a point for me not trying to sleep with hookers, I'd give myself a point, but we did have to pay $300 bucks for them just to show up).

Finally, we went to a real strip club, where girls are naked and it's BYOB. The girls here were pretty attractive, and one started hitting on me. As I slowly burned all my cash, I kept thinking about that Onion editorial, "Man, that stripper really liked me," and realized I was slowly becomming that man. She was a damn good stripper though, not because she was hot, or could dance, but she definitely made me feel like I had a chance all night. All night until I passed out in the strip club and got kicked out. Tre 0, Jersey girls 3.

Let's just say I'm glad I'm back here at home, far away from Jersey girls. The girls here at least talk to me, even if it's just to tell me to buy them another drink.


Abbie said...

I'm not entirely sure why, but I laughed my ass off when I read this post. Maybe because you're like a male version of me when I'm drunk...wait I think I just insulted myself...anyway, you're a hoot Tre!

Apple Martini said...

poor tre. sorry the skanks didn't go for you, especially after that romantic and eloquent pickup line!! ;) nothing like a drunk law student to make you want to hop into bed...

R. U. Serious said...

As a man who knows a thing or two about strippers, if you want a real shot, never get a dance. Maybe a drink, but not a dance. If they are interested, they'll hang. If not, you saved cash.

And if you really want a shot, have the waitress get them a "comission drink". It usually has no alcohol, but the stripper gets a small bonus.

Hey, freaks need love too!

Damned If I Know

Luke Thomas said...

Man, except the violent gang rape doohickey and dumping of the hooker's body in a shallow grave at the end of the evening, your nights sound eerily similar to mine.

Small world, huh?