We were all up bright and early on Friday morning, despite none of us getting any sleep. We stepped into the trap door that was the lift and ended up at the breakfast buffet in the hotel. Never before had I seen so much food. There was everything you could possibly think of at this buffet – and it was all you can eat! I left the table a much less mobile man that I came to it as.

With my mobility hampered, I shuffled my way the short distance over to the poker room and sat in once more to the 1/3 game. It seems to be occupied with a lot of locals and I soon found out why – for every hour you play, you get $2 cashback AND $2 towards comps such as buffets. I cashed out up $120 or so about an hour later without having to show many of my hands. At this rate, Vegas was paying for itself!

I found myself moving pretty quickly to the cage to cashout, so I figured I had recovered from the gluttony of early morning. We wandered over to the massive Fashion Show Mall which is across the road from where we’re staying and found a Tix4Tonight outlet which is a place that sells half-price tickets to shows in Vegas. It was recommended that we go to the Playboy Club which, as it disappointingly transpired, is a Comedy Club. Fortunately for us, it was pretty funny and its headliner for the night Tommy Davidson had me in stitches for most of the show. Or maybe it was the vodka. Ahhh, the vodka.

If you had tickets to the comedy show, you were able to get into the actual Playboy nightclub in the Palms hotel for free. I was told this was good because they ordinarily have a mile long queue full of prostitutes and perverts and charge $40 for the privilege. Everybody gets to the club in an elevator, something that my local club Ruby’s should look into, which is very cool. The 54th floor is the Playboy Club but if the Playboy bunnies dealing blackjack on tables surrounding the dancefloor is too much, you can always take the escalator up to the roof where they have another nightclub. Drink was pretty steep with Heineken (something they consider a “premium beer”) coming in at $9 a bottle. I’d come this far though, so I wasn’t going to give in to those prices.

The more Heineken I guzzled, the more attractive the blackjack tables looked. They were $25 minimum tables so I took out $250 and tried my luck. Bear in mind that I’ve probably played blackjack twice in my life and you kind of get an idea of where this was destined to go. I was actually up a bit for the first 2 minutes but was chasing for the next 30. I was just amazed I was hanging on for so long. When I got down to my last $25, my drink that I had ordered an eternity a go was delivered to me. I hit blackjack for the first time since I sat down and leave the chips there. The dealer busts and I slug the drink and take the $150, happy, relieved and surprised to finish only a tonne down. Thank You Jesus.

With the lads gone home after calling it an early night, I continued to awkwardly stumble and slur my way around the place for an hour or so before realising I was only going around in circles. The only way out of the club was the lift, so I had to wait about 20 minutes before I reached the top of the queue – yes, a queue to LEAVE. The queue for taxis was about 4 times as long outside but I walked on a bit and managed to flag one down just as he was coming into the place. All seemed well and good until he pulled into what I now know to be the Gold Coast casino. He told me to wait in the car and that he’d be back in a minute. I started to get pretty suspicious, even in my state, so I waited until he’d gone out of sight before following him in.

As in get into the casino, I see him sprinting like a gazelle through the casino floor. I check all my pockets and still have my wallet, passport and camera. I’m really confused now. Is he the worst scammer ever? I wait about for a few minutes and there’s no sign of him. His car is still abandoned outside the casino with both his and my doors’ wide open. I walk up to the valet and say “My, you’ve got pretty eyes”. Wait, I hope I didn’t say that. She didn’t flinch. I proceeded with caution. “I’m new here, do drivers usually abandon their car mid-fare?”. She shook her head, looking as confused as I did. I explained the story as best as any rambling drunken idiot could and she just told me that I was lucky. She found me a new taxi, apologised to me and sent me on my way. My new driver suggested that maybe he saw someone that owed him money or someone that he owed money to. As we pulled into the Wynn, I didn’t really care why he ran off, just that I had my money and anal virginity intact. Thank you Jesus.

After such a weird experience, I couldn’t possibly head to bed. I didn’t even know what time it was. I found my way to the poker room and sat straight into a game. I only bought in for $200 because I only wanted to splash around. The Captain and gingers continued to flow so splash around I did. I struggle to remember any hands but must have played out of my skin to get up to $1k at one point. I remember a lot of aggression and plenty of overbet shoves that always seemed to get through. Then, after coming back from the toilet for the umpteenth time, I see Barry at one of the tables. “Have you not slept either?” I ask him. “No man, it’s noon”. I spend the next 5 minutes trying to find my table, thinking it had moved. It didn’t. I get involved in one more pot and lose $200 when my opponent makes a great call and manages to fade my 20 million outs on the turn and river. I decide to call it a night, or day rather, and rack up my chips. $750. Thank You Jesus.

I wake up in my bed and go to get dressed but save myself the trouble when I look at my phone and see that it’s midnight. I have about 7 texts from the lads which reads like a recap of the day; “Want to see a show tonight?”, “Bought you tickets to the show”, “We have to be there for 7″, “Leaving for the show”, “Back from the show”. I’m absolutely famished so I order some room service. Barry comes into the room to have a chat and help me try remember the night without much success. Just as he’s leaving, room service arrives. They even bring a table with them! Before I sink my teeth into one of the nicest steaks I’ve ever had, my server points out his name in case I want to make a nice comment about him. His name? Jesus.

Thank you, Jesus.