Don't tell me that. I came here with a dream. OK, in a dream. It wasn't until Thomas and I visited old Vegas that I found my rhythm, surrounded by old men and Asians, hanging out under horseshoes that long ago lost their luck. I almost expected someone to lick his finger and test the air.
Gin makes a man mean.
Losing makes a man mean it. After a couple of days the only chip I had left was on my shoulder. But my trip to Vegas was still shaping up to be a real winner. I was especially happy when my friend, Doug, got Thomas and I prime seats for Blue Man Group. The Luxor treated us well.