For the last four years, a dead-cert conversation between myself and my friends around April has been the all lads holiday abroad. Spain, Oktoberfest, Australia – all have been bright ideas thrown around at some point only to be quietly forgotten about when we realised we all had no money. When the conversation popped up this year, with us all being 21, the idea of a Hangover-esque Vegas blow-out was inevitably going to be brought to the table. I really, really wanted it to happen but almost from the start resigned myself to the idea being once again left on the proverbial long finger. Until one night we booked it!

Vegas baby!

There’s 3 of us going, so we fall somewhere in between “The Hangover” and “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas”. We’ve managed to get a fantastic deal in the Wynn Hotel, it’s almost too good to be true that I fear that we’ll be put up in the janitors closets for the whole 2 weeks we’ll be there. Something tells me that even the janitors closets would be more spacious than an average hotel room in Ireland, however. Wait, did I say 2 weeks? Yes, yes I did. In the films people struggle to survive a weekend without a tiger ending up in the bathroom or tripping out on a merry-go-round so I did wonder when booking the holiday was 2 weeks about a week too long. I soon stopped wondering when I saw it only cost us $100 dollars for an extra week. Naturally I didn’t even consider how much it would cost us to live there for that extra week!

With the holiday booked, the slavery began. I’ve been working any available hour in work and almost got into the routine of instinctively putting on my uniform on days off in anticipation of “the call”. My Failte Ireland voice evolved into something a soprano would be proud of as I served our guests with a perpetual smile on my face in the hope of getting extra tips. I started to worry when I began using that voice outside of work, much to the amusement of anyone around me who thought I was trying to sound like Casper.

I head off on Thursday and intend on updating this as often and honestly as I can (read as whenever I’m hungover in bed). I know that What Happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas but I hope that the copious amounts of free alcohol will be enough protection to stop me from sharing details that I probably shouldn’t be sharing. We’ll only look at our photos once too.

Oh, I almost forgot – One time poker Gods!!!!!11