No Compromises - Part I

Car keys, check, wallet, check, 27s, check, soul, check. Crossing the walkway into the Las Vegas airport I look up to see a looming 100 foot billboard of Jerry Seinfeld. Oh Vegas. I spot Jared, sporting an Abercrombie hoodie and jeans that seem to be worn, but no, they're not worn; that's the new style, and he bought them like that. He stands, leaning against a slot machine. We greet, we find his carousel, we grab his bags, we stroll thru the cluttered baggage claim into the night air. Crossing the street we roll into the parking lot. My black, shining, car is parked all the way at the back so we have a little ways to go: we talk about life back home in Boston. I miss the good ole days. We spin wheels and hit the pavement. Back at my place, with the strip's many towers looming over my apartment complex, we drop his bags off and decide to grab some food.

It's the Peppermill, a 24-hour diner just past the Wynn, on the strip. From the outside it resembles a strip club, with it's flourescent lights and sleek look, but in actuality it's just an ordinary diner, with maybe just a little extra pizaz. The food's terrible but the conversation is great. We reminisce. It's great. It's good vibrations. It's life.

Waking up, stepping outside, the morning air still brisk in March. It's a beautiful day. I step back inside, Jared stirs. We shower, dress, and head over to play some poker at the MGM. It's Saturday and it's packed. Beautiful girls everywhere, as well as grandmothers and babies in carriages; you gotta love Las Vegas. A friend of ours, Mike, shows up from L.A. and we go grab a drink. At the bar we toast to good times and future excursions. We all sip from our Sierra Nevada's, I'm thirsty, it defintiely hits the spot, and I'm with good people, life is good.

It's too strange to even begin to comprehend how and why things happen to us and why we make certain decisions when we do. A year ago Vegas was a dream. Reality really has a way of catching up with you.....