Here’s another story from this weekend in Vegas, but I’m going to change the name of the person involved. Let’s call him Roger.
Friday morning, the phone rings in my room at 7:30am. It’s Roger, saying, “I can’t sleep, let’s go get breakfast.” I tell him he woke me up and this is way too early, considering the fact that we’ll both be up late every night we’re here, but I can tell by how jazzed he is that he doesn’t care. I agree to meet him at 8:30am. He replies, “Fine. I’m gonna go play some blackjack.”
I drag myself out of bed, take a shower, check e-mail and a few websites, and an hour later, I go downstairs. There aren’t many people gambling this early, so it’s easy to find Roger — but he’s not alone. There’s a young woman sitting next to him. Really close to him. She’s dolled up in a short, low-cut dress and rubbing his leg and flirting with him mercilessly. I immediately size her up as a hooker trying to make a sale.
Now, there are a few things I know about Roger and one of them is that he knows exactly what’s going on here, and there’s exactly zero chance he’s going to take this woman upstairs to his room, or anywhere else. He’s a family man, very dedicated to his wife and kids, and despite the “What happens in Vegas” mantra, would never indulge in this offering. BUT, he’s going to enjoy play-acting the moment, which he is clearly doing.
When I walk up and say hello, Roger introduces me to Lily (I’m making up her name because I don’t remember it, and even if I did, it probably wasn’t her real name) and says she just finished dancing at one of the local strip clubs (shocker!!) and came over to play some blackjack. “Yeah, I’m all hyper and I want to have some fun,” explains Lily.
Fine. I give Roger a look that says, “You look like you’re enjoying this, but you woke me up to have breakfast and I’m here and let’s go to the buffet” (yeah, it’s a pretty good look). To which he replies, “Just a couple more hands and then we’ll go.” Lily misunderstands and, as if to send me a message to get lost, leans closer to Roger and repeats, “Yeah, a couple more hands and then we’ll go.” At this point, Roger sets her straight, saying, “No, he and I are going to have breakfast. You and I aren’t going anywhere.”
Sorry, Lily, no sale. Roger told me later that conducting business with her would have cost $200, which he had no intention of giving her. Worse for Lily, by that time of the morning, the number of other male marks looking for female companionship of that type had dwindled to roughly zero. Worst of all, she lost $300 bucks at the blackjack table. Combined with the sale she didn’t make, that’s a net loss for Lily of $500.
What did Roger gain? He dropped some money at the table, too, but was kind of into the play-acting and attention, and then laughing about it over breakfast. And knowing our friends, he had a Vegas story that was not going to stay in Vegas.