Going forward, I’m just gonna blog everything in my life as it happens—whether consequential or not. Just to save myself from this. When you have to write about something well after the fact, every day that has passed feels like three, and I’ve probably told every one of you all of these stories already, but damn, for the one of you out there I haven’t told about Vegas, here goes:
We flew into Sin City on a Sunday for what turned out to be a day of crazy mad upgrades. Our flights were bumped up to Economy Plus for no good reason (four extra inches of legroom doesn’t sound like much, but it felt glorious to me), then our rental car was upgraded from a Sebring to a Pacifica (again, no reason), and then our rooms at the hotel were upgraded (but at least for a reason: they weren’t ready when they were supposed to be). Our hotel was the MGM Grand, which I didn’t appreciate the hugeness of until that first fifteen minute march between parking garage and elevator bank. I’m not complaining though, because Sarah scored the rooms for $69 a night, which is like Motel 6 cheap but for a totally crab-free hotel room.
It was Blaine and Colleen’s first time in Vegas, and we did a lot of forgetting about this. Vegas is sort of old hat to us now, so we kept booting it for spot to spot just getting things done, and they trailed behind us, mostly stunned and not getting a good look at much of anything until later in the day. We did eventually chill out and let them take a few pictures, but we gave them stern looks and tapped our feet the whole time.
We performed some of ye old gambling in MGM, but it’s never been a terribly lucky casino for us so we moved on to New York, New York after that. It’s always been one of our favourite casinos and I think Blaine and Colleen would now agree. Big but intimate, busy but not assholes-to-elbows with people, and staffed by some speedy waitresses. Unlike previous rock star years, we succumb to the fatigue and crash (embarrassingly) early.
Day two was a day that will live in infamy, because day two was the day we busted caps. (It was also the day we came up with the idea for Blaine and Dave’s Outdoor Casino, but we’ll get back to that). Blaine is into guns. He’s got a fair-sized collection at home, and he’s particularly into World War II stuff. Not too far off the strip is a place that lets you fire full auto (i.e. depress the trigger and spray all kinds of bullets instead of just one). That store, and the promise of Star Trek shenanigans at the Hilton was how we sold Blaine on the tr
ip (not that he really needed to be sold). Sarah and Colleen opted not to fire guns at shit (because they're lame, and also, not boys). Instead, they went to the CBS Preview Studio where they watched Jericho of all things. Not so much a new show that, but Sarah guesses they were trying to figure out how to market season 2 and garner new viewers.
The place that lets you fire guns is called, aptly, The Gun Store. It wasn’t at all what I expected. I figured it would be this enormous property, with metal detectors on the way in and maybe some barb wire here and there. I figured that the range was like a secret, that anyone enquiring about it would be vetted, and made to take some kind of extensive weapons safety course. Giving you a set up like that, obviously, it wasn’t that way at all. It was small, more like a mom and pop hardware store. And you were hardly in the door before one of the staff was saying, “You guys want to fire some guns?” Not in a ‘yee-haw and romper-roo, let’s shoot some shit!’ kind of way—it’s just that they know that’s why 99 out of 100 customers walk through the door. And there was no training, no history lesson; you picked out your gun, paid, went to the range, and your instructor loaded it, told you how to fire it in a way that wouldn't break your arm or rip off a fi
nger, and then you were firing away. I shot a rifle first—semi-auto It was a Thomson, I think, and stupidly easy to use: check the scope, line up your target, fire, hit exactly where you’d aimed. The handgun wasn’t so easy. It was snooty (Blaine offered that word) and my aim wasn’t quite so hot. Blaine fired four rifles in total, all full auto, all with names I forget. His targets were shredded.
In short, firing a gun is exactly how you imagine it to be. It’s just like it looks on TV too. Well, if you’re watching a police procedural, then yes. Not so much when you see two guns, held sideways, fired at the same time. Desperado style doesn’t work so much, and it doesn’t fly at The Gun Store, no matter how nicely you ask.
We flew into Sin City on a Sunday for what turned out to be a day of crazy mad upgrades. Our flights were bumped up to Economy Plus for no good reason (four extra inches of legroom doesn’t sound like much, but it felt glorious to me), then our rental car was upgraded from a Sebring to a Pacifica (again, no reason), and then our rooms at the hotel were upgraded (but at least for a reason: they weren’t ready when they were supposed to be). Our hotel was the MGM Grand, which I didn’t appreciate the hugeness of until that first fifteen minute march between parking garage and elevator bank. I’m not complaining though, because Sarah scored the rooms for $69 a night, which is like Motel 6 cheap but for a totally crab-free hotel room.
It was Blaine and Colleen’s first time in Vegas, and we did a lot of forgetting about this. Vegas is sort of old hat to us now, so we kept booting it for spot to spot just getting things done, and they trailed behind us, mostly stunned and not getting a good look at much of anything until later in the day. We did eventually chill out and let them take a few pictures, but we gave them stern looks and tapped our feet the whole time.
We performed some of ye old gambling in MGM, but it’s never been a terribly lucky casino for us so we moved on to New York, New York after that. It’s always been one of our favourite casinos and I think Blaine and Colleen would now agree. Big but intimate, busy but not assholes-to-elbows with people, and staffed by some speedy waitresses. Unlike previous rock star years, we succumb to the fatigue and crash (embarrassingly) early.
Day two was a day that will live in infamy, because day two was the day we busted caps. (It was also the day we came up with the idea for Blaine and Dave’s Outdoor Casino, but we’ll get back to that). Blaine is into guns. He’s got a fair-sized collection at home, and he’s particularly into World War II stuff. Not too far off the strip is a place that lets you fire full auto (i.e. depress the trigger and spray all kinds of bullets instead of just one). That store, and the promise of Star Trek shenanigans at the Hilton was how we sold Blaine on the tr
ip (not that he really needed to be sold). Sarah and Colleen opted not to fire guns at shit (because they're lame, and also, not boys). Instead, they went to the CBS Preview Studio where they watched Jericho of all things. Not so much a new show that, but Sarah guesses they were trying to figure out how to market season 2 and garner new viewers.The place that lets you fire guns is called, aptly, The Gun Store. It wasn’t at all what I expected. I figured it would be this enormous property, with metal detectors on the way in and maybe some barb wire here and there. I figured that the range was like a secret, that anyone enquiring about it would be vetted, and made to take some kind of extensive weapons safety course. Giving you a set up like that, obviously, it wasn’t that way at all. It was small, more like a mom and pop hardware store. And you were hardly in the door before one of the staff was saying, “You guys want to fire some guns?” Not in a ‘yee-haw and romper-roo, let’s shoot some shit!’ kind of way—it’s just that they know that’s why 99 out of 100 customers walk through the door. And there was no training, no history lesson; you picked out your gun, paid, went to the range, and your instructor loaded it, told you how to fire it in a way that wouldn't break your arm or rip off a fi
nger, and then you were firing away. I shot a rifle first—semi-auto It was a Thomson, I think, and stupidly easy to use: check the scope, line up your target, fire, hit exactly where you’d aimed. The handgun wasn’t so easy. It was snooty (Blaine offered that word) and my aim wasn’t quite so hot. Blaine fired four rifles in total, all full auto, all with names I forget. His targets were shredded.In short, firing a gun is exactly how you imagine it to be. It’s just like it looks on TV too. Well, if you’re watching a police procedural, then yes. Not so much when you see two guns, held sideways, fired at the same time. Desperado style doesn’t work so much, and it doesn’t fly at The Gun Store, no matter how nicely you ask.
Comments
Given the choice, I'd pick firing guns at shit over watching a TV show any day. Do you remember me playing Big Buck Hunter?? Clearly, I need all the practice I can get.