In recent weeks, ever since the countdown to Vegas has got into the 60/50-days to go range (I think we're at 40-something now, for those scoring at home) people have asked me what I want to do for my birthday itself - which is the first full day we're there.
Now, even though it's my birthday and this whole Vegas-for-my-birthday thing was my idea, I don't want to be the kind of person who says "Oh, well we all have to do this and then this and oh, then we're all going to do this, too!"
I mean, there's eight of us there for four days, and I'm sure we're gonna see more than enough of each other - mostly while shitfaced. And then I'm sure there will be other times when people wander off to do whatever they want.
When the 46 of us (it was 46, right?) went to Vegas last April, we did plenty together - gambled, played craps and then all hung out at ESPNZone for Colleen's birthday. And Christene and I actually went about a day and a half without seeing a single other person in our party (mostly because I was uber-hungover... 'twas not good). It was, in retrospect, a pretty damn good mix of organization and randomness.
That said, people have still been asking me what I want to do on my birthday. After careful consideration, I have only two requests for the day I officially leave my 20s behind:
1. I want to eat breakfast/brunch/lunch (whenever we wake up) at the Hash House A Go Go which is located at the Imperial Palace on the strip. I want to go there because I've heard people rave about it, and also I saw it on an episode of Man vs. Food. To put it simply, the food looks ridiculous. Like, enough to feed you for 4 days kind of ridiculous.
For example, take a gander of the following three photos from the Hash House. In order, they are photos of their pork tenderloin sandwich (yes, that's technically a sandwich... see the bun top?) fried chicken benedict; and chicken and waffles.
So yes, I would like to spend the first day of my 30s eating a disgusting amount of delicious yet terrible food. Because if your 30s are supposed to be about responsibility and kids and home-ownership and RRSPs, well I can think of no better way of saying "Fuck that" than by eating any of the three meals you see above this paragraph.Oh, and there's one more thing, if you'll indulge me. I'd like to shoot some fucking guns.
You see, never in my 29 years on this planet have I fired any weapon stronger than a paintball gun, and while I have no intention of going on Ted Nugent on you, I would like to remedy that situation. Just because, well... just because. I propose we do it here - at The Gun Store.
(Now, I also realize that since my birthday is our first full day in Vegas, we may actually want to do other Vegas-y things on Day 1, so I'm OK if gun-shooting gets delayed a day or so. And if we do in fact delay, I suggest we fill the void by playing Beer Pong at O'Shea's. 'Tis a worthy substitution.)
So there you have it, folks. Guns and waffles. I am a simple man, and I don't think this is too much to ask.
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