Last week I spent three days in Reno for our first annual Reno golf getaway. We played three different courses: D’Andrea, Red Hawk, and Lakeridge–and stayed at the Silver Legacy hotel on Wednesday and Thursday night.
What a week. I slept less than 3 hours each night and was drunk every day. And amazingly, each day of golf I played progressively worse.
Dave and I stayed out half the night, each night, playing craps. I managed to break even for the week–so I’m happy with that. But Dave… didn’t do so good.
Wednesday night we’re at the craps table and Dave is fucking fucked up. Hammered. Really, really drunk. He’s betting $50 on the hardways but the damn guy keeps hitting ’em. When he wins he slings $5 chips at each dealer at the table, and gives two to the pitboss because “he’s wearing a suit”.
This goes on for awhile until Dave has over $1,000 in chips in his pocket, plus more on the table. Holy crap. Don’t lose it all, Dave!
So I turn to him and say, “Dude. Let’s be smart. Let’s cash out that grand, take it up to the room and stash it. Then we can come back and gamble with what you’ve got left.”
Dave is drunk and not listening to me. He loses big a few more times, but still has that grand in his pocket. I suggest we cash out a few more times and Dave finally caves in. So we start off for the cashier.
I turn my back for ONE second and Dave is gone.
I figure maybe there is another cashier and he was headed that way, so I wander the floor looking. Can’t find him.
So I think, “Well maybe he’s already up at the room.”
I head up to the room. No Dave. I throw in a dip and crack open a beer. I wait. No Dave.
Finally I call him on the cell.
“Dave. Dude. Where the fuck are you? I’m up at the room having a dip and a beer. Where have you been?”
Silence. After a long pause…
“IT’S ALL GONE DUDE. I LOST IT ALL.”
Dave, you fucking jackass.
When I turned my back he went right back to the craps table. This time he bet $100 and $200 on the hardways, and lost it all in a matter of minutes.
I sleep for a couple hours and then it’s time for day two of golf.
Red Hawk golf course sucked. The people were not very friendly or accommidating. We were an hour late teeing off due to bad scheduling and the backup.
Drinks were extremely expensive. We all had doubles every time the beer cart girl came around, and tipped her so good every time she ignored the rest of the course and its players, and just followed us around.
Red Hawk the course was just punishing. Brutal, even. Every fucking shot was in the sand trap. Bunkers were everywhere, strategically placed so that every shot was almost guaranteed to go in. I was pissed. I shot somewhere around 110.
Night two at the casino and Dave is up $1,000 at craps. Think he lost it all again?
Day three of golf at the most beautiful, nicest course I’ve played in a long time. Lakeridge golf course is an old course with mature landscaping and beautiful scenery. We smoked cigars and basked in the sun and had an enjoyable round. I played the worst of the three days of golf, and ended up with a 120 something. But I didn’t care. It was one of those days where nothing could bother me, and it just felt damn good to be alive.
So after Three nights of 2-3 hours of sleep and three days of booze I’m ready to come home. I finally walk in the door at 10pm on Friday night, and sleep until noon the next day.
I can’t believe you guys still have functioning livers! Sounds like a blast!
The trick is to supplement your diet with some guarana extract and horny goat weed. The combination of the two, infused with Momokawa Sake actually builds a protective lining inside the inner walls of the liver that can prolong your boozing career. There are some side effects like, vomiting, siezures and loss of equilibrium. But those come with the booze anyway, so might as well heal your liver while your’e destroying your mind. It’s a fair trade off.