Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Oh, Naive Me, pt. 2

I feel like I've been to Vegas so many times that I'm beginning to learn from my mistakes. There are a lot of don'ts: Don't play Carribean Stud, Pai Gow, slots that cost over a quarter. Don't order anything but beer from a cocktail waitress. Don't ride the lightrail. Also, I've learned you don't assume the strange woman talking to you is NOT a prostitute.

But something I DO recommend are the Vegas spas. The last time I went, I had an incredible time in Mandalay Bay's spa. Cucumbers on the eyelids, free razors, free cranapple juice. Luxor's spa isn't as LUXORious as that (more like a YMCA), but it was a $7 entrance fee and the towels were warm.

And I'm the only one in the whole place. So I take my space in one of three hot tubs and close my eyes. And in no less than 90 seconds I feel something on my toe. Through my eyelashes, I see that there is an old man sitting in my tub. And old man who is tapping my toe with his toe.

Here's where the naivete comes in: I didn't assume it was a gay thing. I just assumed it was a weird thing, and I'm going to get out of his way. But, ladies and gentlemen, it was a gay thing.

I shower, I use the free razor, and I hit the pool.

But when I'm done with the pool, I realize I need another shower. And, you know, I paid for the whole day, and I like their free lotion. So I go back to the spa. That weird guy is gone, but there is another man in the hot tub. But I know better: I'll use the one he's NOT using. I hang out for a few minutes, I hesitantly close my eyes, I relax, then I jump out and head to the steam room. Which was a mistake.

The steam room's empty and I take a seat on the top tier. Not 30 seconds later, the guy from the hot tub comes in, cranks the steam on so high that I can hardly see my hand in front of my face, and then sits right next to me. But fuck that, I'm not moving. So we play gay chicken for about 30 seconds until he knows I'm not feeling it (so to speak) and leaves. And when I feel that it's not too suggestive, I leave as well. For good.

Search "Luxor" "Spa" "Crusing" on Google, and you'll find that it is THE gay cruising spot in a hotel that is THE premier gay hotel. That helped me come to terms with the whole thing. Because it's not that I'm the victim of some over-aggressive gay men. The fact is that I'm a huge cock tease.

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Oh Naive Me, pt. 1

Every day that I get closer to fatherhood, I get further from childhood. So in the few weeks I have left before I have a child, I've tried to binge on childish things. So I went to Vegas last weekend and didn't wear my wedding ring. You know, just to see if I got game. Not that I ever had any. Because even as a child I was too adult to do childish things, like have sex with a woman I'm not married to. Not that I was looking for sex last weekend. I just wanted to meet a girl, flirt with the girl, then walk away from the girl so I can imagine having sex with her. To my surprise, the women did find me. At a bar in Excalibur, a group of ladies literally did a 180 after passing me by. They weren't drunk, they weren't part of some bachelorette party scheme. Just as I began to feel good about the way I combed my hair and the styles that I wear, I find out what they're really doing: just some prostitutes wondering if I wanted to have a good time. I told them no thanks, I'm married.

More later...

Thursday, January 7, 2010


So, this story is predicated by two things:

1) My wife sometimes thinks that I'm much smarter than she is.
2) The night before I was to cook the enchiladas she prepared, she warned me to take off the silicon top to the pan before sticking it in the oven.

And so... (I'll post a picture when I get home)

Monday, September 21, 2009

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

New web series!

Starring the not-Chris Elliott, Chris Schneider. Written by me and Ben Bleichman.

Go to MakinLemonade.blip.tv to watch all 4!

Friday, June 5, 2009

Poison control

I nearly killed someone today. My friend did some window shopping at my herb garden, curious about some of the more exotic things I planted. Turns out pennyroyal, from the mint genus, is deadly poisonous. That wasn't clear until after he sampled a leaf. My friend remembered how he'd heard of the herb--as a medieval potion used for abortions.

We initially went to household remedies: all beer related. My friend's tongue went numb and he started shaking. Wikipedia told me how toxic this plant really is, but I for some reason was not telling him the truth. My frame of mind was to not get his heart rate up, and also to not ruin my buzz.

The call to California Poison Control went like this:

ME: Yeah, my friend just ate a leaf from a pennyroyal plant...
PC: Well, why did he do that?
ME: He didn't know it was poisonous.
PC: Yeah, it's poisonous. Deadly poisonous.
ME: Should we take him to a hospital?!
PC: Ah, lemme check.

We held for seventy-one seconds. It sounded like this guy took this call from his cabin in the Sierras.

PC: Well, if he just ate a leaf, he should be alright. It takes about 100 grams to kill an adult. He may have some bowel trouble for the next couple weeks though.

So far, he's wolfed down a Subway footlong and everything, for the time, seems to be all right.

And I'm getting rid of that awful, useless fucking plant.