Not one of my prouder moments...I am stretched out waiting to board my flight leaving Vegas last April. It was was an amazing trip and at the same time a very painful experience. I like many before me had done a little drinking and it turned out to be a life lesson. I had met my pal from New Mexico in Vegas. She is the most amazing person I have ever met. She and I became friends after meeting a New Years Eve in Santa Fe many years ago. I had some luck at the slots the previous October so the Grand likes me now and offers me suites, food and money to gamble. Anyway, Carol and I had gone to see my friend Tommy Castro perform at one of the local casinos and apparently I had developed a taste for Patron Tequila...I am not a drinker by trade and with the help of the bartender who had been serving doubles instead of single shots kicked my ass. One minute I am talking to Tommy, saying my goodbyes and the next I am unconscious, requiring an ambulance and from what I hear a stomach pump. How humiliated I was as I crossed the lobby of the Grand in paper clothes and slipper socks. It was suffering that no one should ever know. So we get to the room and don't have a key. I call the lobby and ask security to let me in. They arrive and I am sprawled out in the hallway. As the women unlocks the doors I crawl in on my hands and knees. Man what a kick in the pants that was. I had given up booze about twenty years before. Then for some odd reason thought it sounded like a good idea again. So after trying it again after twenty years I realized that I am not a drinker and thank goodness I was with someone who cared because I am pretty sure I would not have made it through the night without intervention. The next afternoon we are at the airport and her flight leaves earlier than mine so I wait...suffering in silence until I can check my bags and make my way to the gate to head home a whipped puppy and ashamed at my lack of ability to control my actions and my consumption of the dreaded tequila! Looks like it will be another half a century before I try something like that again. Make that a century! Anyway, I arrive safely and proceed to share my tale with the fam...After a couple of days a friend of a friend is hearing the tale and he says, "Wait I have heard this...". The response is no, this was Lisa Jo in Vegas. The friend repeats the tale with great accuracy. The horror of it all is the "What happens in Vegas, apparently does not stay in Vegas!" Seems like some old friends traveling from California were staying at the Grand and heard the story around the hotel. How proud I am of this...NOT! What a nightmare! It sealed my fate and my conviction that I shall never drink again. Actually, never really enjoyed the ceremony of it all, so I shall save that for the more tolerant folks and resort to humor and a great meal to satisfy my soul...
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Waiting for a plane Vegas style...
Not one of my prouder moments...I am stretched out waiting to board my flight leaving Vegas last April. It was was an amazing trip and at the same time a very painful experience. I like many before me had done a little drinking and it turned out to be a life lesson. I had met my pal from New Mexico in Vegas. She is the most amazing person I have ever met. She and I became friends after meeting a New Years Eve in Santa Fe many years ago. I had some luck at the slots the previous October so the Grand likes me now and offers me suites, food and money to gamble. Anyway, Carol and I had gone to see my friend Tommy Castro perform at one of the local casinos and apparently I had developed a taste for Patron Tequila...I am not a drinker by trade and with the help of the bartender who had been serving doubles instead of single shots kicked my ass. One minute I am talking to Tommy, saying my goodbyes and the next I am unconscious, requiring an ambulance and from what I hear a stomach pump. How humiliated I was as I crossed the lobby of the Grand in paper clothes and slipper socks. It was suffering that no one should ever know. So we get to the room and don't have a key. I call the lobby and ask security to let me in. They arrive and I am sprawled out in the hallway. As the women unlocks the doors I crawl in on my hands and knees. Man what a kick in the pants that was. I had given up booze about twenty years before. Then for some odd reason thought it sounded like a good idea again. So after trying it again after twenty years I realized that I am not a drinker and thank goodness I was with someone who cared because I am pretty sure I would not have made it through the night without intervention. The next afternoon we are at the airport and her flight leaves earlier than mine so I wait...suffering in silence until I can check my bags and make my way to the gate to head home a whipped puppy and ashamed at my lack of ability to control my actions and my consumption of the dreaded tequila! Looks like it will be another half a century before I try something like that again. Make that a century! Anyway, I arrive safely and proceed to share my tale with the fam...After a couple of days a friend of a friend is hearing the tale and he says, "Wait I have heard this...". The response is no, this was Lisa Jo in Vegas. The friend repeats the tale with great accuracy. The horror of it all is the "What happens in Vegas, apparently does not stay in Vegas!" Seems like some old friends traveling from California were staying at the Grand and heard the story around the hotel. How proud I am of this...NOT! What a nightmare! It sealed my fate and my conviction that I shall never drink again. Actually, never really enjoyed the ceremony of it all, so I shall save that for the more tolerant folks and resort to humor and a great meal to satisfy my soul...
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I drink very little,but I like single malt whiskey. I have a few nips now and then, each very expensive bottle that I buy usually lasts me more than a year. However a few years ago I was just starting a new job and my co workers invited me to a cottage for a long weekend. It had been many years since I had smoked. I turned up with a bottle of single malt twelve year old stuff. There were three other men, the cottage was in a very deserted spot on Lake Erie. One of the men had bought hash cookies and another quite a lot of grass. I was very hungry and ate too much of the cookies, then smoked and then started on my bottle to, as I thought, stop myself from getting too high. I got about half way through the bottle, said I thought I should go to bed, got up from our dinner and I remember the wooden floor coming up towards my face quite fast. My new friends put me to bed and I mumbled my thanks, secure in the knowledge that they knew how to handle me. I slept very well and that one freak out binge will satisfy me for many years to come.
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