Dom goes to Vegas, almost gets married (before I moved here)...

This was requested by a friend who never heard the story about how I almost got married in Vegas back in early 2001 or 2002 or something so it's definitely not recent. It's pretty funny and worth repeating for those who haven't heard it. Plus it was time to get something new up on dudebro besides an article about a sandwich. Enjoy.

The majority of the time I’m in Vegas I’m in such an alcoholic haze that the things I’m told I do make absolutely no logical sense to me. But as we all know, when you add alcohol, your buddys, hookers, strippers, clubs, and casinos all into the same formula, some interesting factors are going to take place. So I think the story I’ll share with my readers this time is the time I almost got married in the V-town to a drop-dead gorgeous Romanian immigrant. Lets proceed....

I touched down at McCarran like I usually do. I have officially "loathed" the drive to Vegas for about 4 years now, so I don’t drive there. As a matter of fact, I hate all long drives anywhere. I’ll just jump my ass on a plane and get there in an hour or so, while being drunk the whole time. Alcohol is my bitch and will always have my full and utmost attention. Especially when I’m on vacation or in my off-time. Now you see why I fly whenever I go somewhere.

We arrive at baggage claim to get our multitude of luggage for the duration of our stay. Walking out front I realize for once I want to take an actual limo to our hotel. Seeing me, B-Legit, Face, and The Doctor were all highly intoxicated anyway, we all agree. I see a black limo pull up with no reservation for anyone and flag him down. We all pitch in and jump inside. The first thing I go for was the bottle of bourbon in the sidebar. Have I eaten breakfast yet? No, of course not, I’m currently drinking my breakfast.

We pull up at the Flamingo and I’m still drinking as is everyone else. The driver had to open the door and suggest we depart or he’d charge us for another hour. I figured he served his purpose, got us there in style, and I wanted to check in anyway so I can have free drinks at the craps table. We get out and he bids us farewell. Yeah whatever, its GO time!

We check in, drop off all of our shit in the room. Crank the air conditioner all the way up to like 58 degrees or some shit (we take advantage) and proceeded to go downstairs. We had some buffet breakfast real quick, its cheap and its fast and they make it so. I have no problem with that, I’m in a hurry to continue my drinking binge. I give little Garaputo my plates and leftover table relics and we’re off to the tables.

I played craps for quite some time. I made drunken friends with men obviously in their mid-life crisis from the clothes they were wearing and the cars they were bragging about just purchasing. I didn’t care though, if they’re getting drunk with me and having a good time as we make fun of passers-by then all is right with the world. After a few hours of this however, B-Legit and myself decide that we must go hit up one of our favorite nudy bars in Vegas. Turns out we were gambling, drinking, and womanizing longer than we thought because it was now dark outside. But thats how Vegas is sometimes.

We get a cab with some ex-crip gangmember as a driver and are in route to the fantastic Olympic Gardens. OG’s is one of my favorite nudy bars because the women are all gorgeous as one should expect for being right on Las Vegas Blvd, and the drinks are strong. I throw down a dub (thats $20, friend) and make my way around the cashier to find a suitable place to sit and poor alcohol into my face. I find it and my boys immediately join me.

Here's where it all happened...

Now B-Legit is like the nudy bar godfatherof the crew. He gets lap dances with women and they pretty much do everything to this kid you can imagine. He’s been *insert whatever you can think of here* and God knows what else. Out here in Cali, a girl came back out after the lap dance to where we were sitting, just to give him her number. He never calls, its awesome and I love it. When I asked him what his reason for not calling them is, he always replies, "These girls are nothing more than my entertainment for the night. Anything that is to develop outside these doors would be a waste of my time. I love strippers, but only when they’re at work. I don’t think they’re very smart and I don’t find them to be that entertaining OUTSIDE of work, so fuck ’em." I couldn’t agree more, although some strippers have been close friends of mine in the past. But the majority of the part about them being stupid and uninteresting is usually true.

Well we’re now situated and having a smoke or two with our long islands just waiting to see who’s going to come bother us for a lap dance and who was going to get immediately denied for doing so. I don’t really get lap dances anyway, but if I do it sure as hell isn’t going to be within the first hour I’m there. I have to marinate and get a comfortable view of ass, thighs, and tits in my face for anything of substance to happen. And 2 hours later, here she came...

Now don’t ask me what her name was, I couldn’t tell you. But I can describe verbatum what she looked like. Short white hoochy shorts, but classy somehow. A sequined bikini top exposing the perfect curvature of two perfect breasts and her legs. Legs that were so long, shapely and beautiful I had one of my temporary lapses of lust or love, I still don’t know what it was to this day, but she had my attention. Her hair caressed her shoulders as she turned her neck to look at me, and her skin was softer than a down pillow and satin sheets. She wore open-toed low platform shoes and her feet were perfection each time she took a step towards me. Her eyes were gleaming like 4 carats a piece, blinding yours truly like a freight train was coming down the tracks head on with just me standing there. And the ass, the ass would’ve made grown men leave their families of two decades to shack up with that thing for just one night. Things were heating up at a geometric rate.

She sat down next to me and just began small talk. At this point, I’m so fucking gone, everything was spinning, and everything sounded convincing. I’m no longer with my boys, she’s lured me to some back corner of the place as she sat on my lap, kissing my neck, and stroking my better half.  Turns out she was an immigrant from Romania but wanted nothing more than to be a legal resident of the united states. I think you see where this is going.....

We started making out and she was putting my hands on her chest and my other in between her legs. Now she sucking on my ear lobes and whispering all sorts of nastiness into my ear, and I’m loving it. In my highly, highly intoxicated frame of mind, (I’d been drinking since boarding the plane early that morning ,remember?) I heard her say she’d love to spend the rest of her life with someone like me. I immediately got up and grabbed her by the hand and was walking out of the building. B-Legit stopped me and asked where I was going. I remember saying, "I’m in a hurry, I’ll be next door, bye bye then!"

Well there was one of those speedy drive-thru wedding chapels next door and I was well on my way. I got there and remembered making out with her more as we waited to get our number. Upon seeing me, the cashier said I looked a little intoxicated and should maybe rethink my decision this particular evening. I remember telling her something like, "I don’t pay you to think or make my decisions for me, I pay you to give me one of those fancy certificates you got back there. Thanks!" I’m getting antzy because I really want to bang this gorgeous broad who’s latched onto me right now, and for some reason I think time is of the essence. I also recall suggesting to her we just consummate the marriage in the janitor’s broom closet behind us before the marriage itself even takes place. She starts giggling and says, "Good things cummmmmmm to those who wait." I look up and we’re next.

I stand up and walk to the alter thingy wearing my damn hawaiian shirt and dickies, and the lines come. "Do you *garbled name* take this man to be your lawful wedded husband, to have and to hold" so on so forth. Without even flinching she replies, "I DO!" Then he turned to me, "Do you Dominic, take this woman to be your lawful wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?" I was about to say, "I DO!" in my euphoric state of sex and liquor when I felt a large hand grasp my neck. I was yanked and carried out of the wedding chapel by B-Legit, Face, and The Doctor. I remember them saying to the minister as I was being carried out on B-Legits back, "You already passed the speak or forever hold your piece part, so we’re just going to drag him outta here! SORRY!"

So you see, I have good friends for the most part. Chances are the next week I would’ve got the marriage annuled, unbeknownst to her, as I flew back to Cali, and everything would’ve been ok and I still would’ve banged the hot Romanian girl. But my boys, being the types of guys they are, knew that I’d probably fuck that up somehow and didn’t even let the situation transpire. And lets be honest here, going through with a marriage in a tiny Vegas chapel regardless of your intoxication level, just to get a piece of ass is pretty retarded. I was doing way too much than was probably necessary, but I’ve done lots of dumb things in my life due to my fondness for the drink. But honestly, how hard is it to bang a stripper? I mean seriously?

There was one other time I almost got married, and that too took place in Vegas, its just that kind of a town.