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Why I should never go back to the Hard Rock Casino

By: Bobby Finstock on 05/9/08 @ 7:38 am

So last night I was trying to think about what I was going to write about today and I threw up a post on twitter asking for some suggestions. Steve said that he wanted to hear a gambling story. I have a lot of them but really have never written about them. Of course just like stories about fighting or sex the best gambling stories are filled with failure and embarrassment.

A few years back I went to Las Vegas with my then girlfriend or girl that I refused to call my girlfriend yet had sex with multiple times a week and slept over at her house almost every other day. This was my first real trip to Vegas where I was going to rip it up. I was going to drink heavily, I was going to carouse, and I was going to really experience Vegas. So when we arrived in the early afternoon on Friday we went directly to a bar and started drinking.

That evening we were going to see the Black Crowes at the Hard Rock Hotel and I decided to drink through dinner so we would be primed at ready to go. While at the show my lovely companion continued to feed me a steady diet of captain and cokes. The show was excellent and might have been one of the best shows I have ever seen; a good time was had by all.

black crowes

As we exited the concert venue at the Hard Rock I made a beeline for the blackjack tables. At this point in the evening I could barely speak but blackjack sounded like a good idea.

Now in my head this is how I thought things went:

I am really social when I am drunk and playing blackjack. I want everyone at the table to get rolling. So I start fist pounding everyone and calling it the “fun and good times” table. We were cheering for each other and some people were winning money. (Of course I wasn’t.) Every time the waitress came around I ordered a drink and pounded it down, showing off how much of a stud I was. While I didn’t win money (I lost over $600 bucks in that one sitting) we still had fun and I was a source of entertainment for everyone at our table.

In reality this is probably what really happened:

When I am drunk and playing blackjack I am loud and annoying. While I think I want everyone at the table to feel the mojo and get rolling I really am distracting them from playing and ruining their time. Because of this I am end up costing myself money and everyone else at the table. The hotel kept feeding me drinks because I was hammered and gambling. Everyone at the table pretty much wanted me to walk away to salvage some dignity.

I prefer to remember things in the first version.

To top things off I drank so much that I couldn’t really drink rest of the weekend because I was hung over for three days. Plus on my way out of the hotel that night I:

hard rock cocktail waitress

-Attempted to grab the ass of a cocktail waitress in front of my girlfriend and missing, just grabbing air.
-Fell while getting into the cab.

Well done Kevin… Well done.

You’re so money and you don’t even know it…. Indeed.

Have you ever ruined a trip by your drunken antics?

This is going up at humor-blogs.com

(I did return there this fall and won back some of the money I lost to them… I will get all of the money I spent back before I die. Bastards.)

Filed in: My Life

About the author

Bobby Finstock

Finstock is founder of Pointlessbanter.net. He is known for his encyclopedia like knowledge on the life and times of Scott Baio. In the future he hopes to write again under his own name in order to impress the ladies and build his celebrity to the levels of other failed internet writers.

22 Responses to “Why I should never go back to the Hard Rock Casino”

  1. moooooog35 says:

    On my wife’s 21st birthday I got way more hammered than her and blacked out.

    I was later told that during the limo ride home, a car full of Latinos pulled up next to us and told us to roll our windows down.

    I did.

    If I lived in L.A, versus New England, I believe the next few seconds would normally be filled with the sound of gunfire.

    Anyway – the car ended up pulling close to us. With me hanging halfway out the window, and some Latino hanging halfway out his, they tried passing me some package of something wrapped in aluminum foil.

    I was just about to grab it when my wife – in her sober state – pulled me back in.

    I’m assuming it was a head…or cocaine…or a small Chihuahua.

    I’ll never know.

    Which sucks, because it would have been cool to have a Chihuahua.

  2. matty says:

    So, who was the big winner again that night? And you know that cocktail waitress wanted to party and bring some of her baby friends, if you could have only grabbed a piece of her ass.

  3. Alice says:

    I always appreciate a good Vegas story where someone loses more money in a sitting than I do.

  4. Darcie says:

    The Hard Rock Casino is my favorite. In January, while partying there, I met Ron Jeremy. I blacked out shortly thereafter, waking up on the bathroom floor of my hotel room, with stamps on my hand from numerous clubs on the strip that I’ve never even heard of nor remember. I do have faint memories of being in a cab with a guy with a shaved head who was eating chips and repeating to me that he didn’t play baseball.

  5. Mewie says:

    Comical honesty. At least you didn’t get hurt – annoying people in Vegas tend to end up in the hospital, especially when you start causing others to lose money.

    3 day hangover… ouch! Did you learn any valuable lessons? =P

  6. jack daniels says:

    well ive been drinking this morning since 10:30 and havent stopped and am about to finish a bottle of jack so im sure ill ruin something before the days through.. does that count?

  7. Trista says:

    I just peed a little.

    thanks for the memory.

    The girl that was never your girlfriend.

  8. sporkgasm says:

    last time we went to reno it was on a bus trip. i started drinking shots of tequila at 8 am. we crashed a dive bar bus trip and ended up at a strip club. apparently when blacked out i tip well and make out with strippers. yes, i’m gay when drunk. awesome stuff. i spent so much they thought i was the daughter of the harrahs. hi, that bitch is bleach blonde and looks nothing like me. they may as well have thought i was paris hilton. what i remember of the trip was fun though.

  9. PitChiK says:

    So, my boyfriend and I broke up the first time and I was meeting up with the new guy at the bar that we all frequented. Well, I didn’t eat dinner that night and started pounding down whiskey and cokes (got to love $1 wells night). By time my date showed up(about an hour after I got there), I was already drunk. We talk, cuddle, drink… Then my “ex” walks in. This is what I think happened: I see him and say under my breath “asshole” and lean on the shoulder of my date. Reality: I screamed on the top of my lungs (and this is a dive) “fuckin asshole!!” so everyone in the place can hear. Needless to say, I ruined everyone’s night. Oh, then I preceeded to text the “ex” mean things and leave him rude messages. Yeah, good times…

  10. Amanda says:

    The missed ass/air grab was my favorite part.

  11. marcie says:

    a drunken night ruined by DWI when i was sitting in my car not moving…not planning to move….barley drunk 0.13

    that ruins a great night

  12. Mandygirl says:

    I got so drunk on a plane back from Ohio once I dont remember much…. I fell off my luggage while sitting on it becasue I’m lazy.

    I also dont remember telling Gary to “STOP TALKING TO THAT BITCH” when he was trying to reassure a woman terrified of flying that “everything was going to be ok” Oh and I said “The slut was faking it, she just wants you” at the top of my lungs. Classy.

  13. Hispanic Panic says:

    On a cruise ship playing blackjack after a mexican shot-laden shore excursion, I drank so much that I passed out on my face on the table.

    I woke up the next morning in my bed, same clothes on, with five $100 chips in my pocket. (Only started with $100)

    I still don’t remember what happened, but I hope there’s no camera involved.

  14. Brother Monk says:

    Halloween 1998 following a Phish concert, brain full of lysergic acid, lungs full of cannabis, and a belly full of bourbon, I decide (in costume no less) to go to Caesar’s Palace to play craps. Because after 7 hours of HARD partying with a group of wookie miscreants, this seems like the logical progression to make.

    I somehow managed to get stuck on an elevator. By stuck I mean I could not seem to get off of it. Damned automatic doors. While riding up and down and laughing at nothing in particular, my elevator car suddenly made a strange noise and went express up to the top floor. Doors open and in steps a VERY large man, then another giant of a man, followed by…

    Dennis Rodman. In Vegas. On Halloween.

    Best part of all? They didn’t seem to care one iota that a crazy looking white man with pupils the size of dinner plates was already on the elevator giggling to himself.

    I won’t even tell you about the two hours afterwards where I thought I was invisible… pit bosses LOVE me…

  15. Rae says:

    Ah, drunken wanderings in Vegas. It’s people like you that paid for my public school education in Clark County. I don’t know if I should thank you, or start a lynch mob…

  16. mistaken/debbie says:

    lol one shouldn’t get that drunk
    funny :}

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