On Thursday, Mrs. Cutter decided that we weren’t spending enough money on this vacation, and planned a trip to the hotel spa. While she was busy getting seaweed wraps or whatever, I had a bit of free time. How did I pass this time? By shooting guns!
Of all the potential activities Squinty could have chosen for the day after his wedding, going to a shooting range would have never crossed my mind. Having never touched a gun before, I was slightly hesitant, but as the saying goes: “When was the last time you did something for the first time?”
We went to Battlefield Las Vegas, and I was a bit overwhelmed by the choices of weapons. While firing cannons might have been cool, I figured for my first time, it was probably a good idea to start small. While some of the others went with exotic packages like the “D-Day Special” I opted for a simple Glock.
Here’s one thing I hadn’t realized about guns: They are loud.
I didn’t expect it to be a quiet experience, but until you stand near a firing gun, you have no idea just how much noise they make. Some of the others in the shooting range were firing some heavy artillery, and even with the benefit of ear protection, the sound was near deafening.
After receiving some instructions, I took my turn. Considering it was my first attempt, I thought my accuracy was pretty good. Maybe I should buy a gun for my home. I’m sure Mrs. Cutter will be on board with this idea. After all, with three small children around, I can’t see anything that could go wrong.
There were no set dinner plans for that evening, but eventually, we decided to go to Gordon Ramsey’s BurGR restaurant in Planet Hollywood. Apparently, quite a few people decided on a similar course of action, because there was an hour long wait.
I was in a casino with an hour wait ahead of me. If only there was some way to kill that time! Mrs. Cutter chose to visit the Miracle Mile shopping mall, and since she was determined to give the casino as much of our money as she could, I figured I might as well do the same. And so I made my first visit to the blackjack table.
I’ve discussed many times how my luck at gambling has kind of sucked in recent years. I knew that if I walked up to a table stone cold sober, I was going to lose, and probably quickly. I remedied that problem by downing a strawberry daiquiri.
I found an open table and hoped for the best. I started off well enough, but as soon as a new dealer came to the table, I started to really get on a roll.
She had blue hair (I don’t think it was her natural color), and was super friendly. She was cheering for the players and giving out advice. Buoyed by such a positive presence, I went on a winning streak. Others at the table might not have had great luck, but I was kicking some ass.
Finally, it was time to eat, and I headed towards the restaurant feeling good about my winnings. That euphoria quickly died upon learning how much money Mrs. Cutter had spent at Sephora.
She tried to rationalize this expenditure by pointing out:
- Others in the group spent more. (I suppose I should admire her restraint or something?)
- She didn’t spend the money on makeup, but rather primer. (Whatever the heck that means.) It’s especially galling since I actually think she looks better without any makeup on.
After dinner, we met up with one of Mrs. Cutter’s friends who happened to be visiting Vegas. When we sat down at Planet Hollywood’s lounge, we just thought it was a pleasant place to get a drink. We had no idea what was in store.
Out of nowhere, a band took the stage. And when they opened with Tubthumping by Chumbawumba, I instantly knew that good times were ahead.
The band might not have been the most talented in the world, but their playlist was awesome. They played a bunch of hits from the 90’s and 2000’s. As I remarked to Mrs. Cutter, “It’s like they’re playing the soundtrack from our college years!” The lead singer also wore a scarf so I felt we had a bit of a connection.
The good times didn’t last. Energetic 90’s band or no, Mrs. Cutter and I were tiring quickly. We still hadn’t adjusted to West Coast time, so 8 PM felt very late. So as most of the people around us were just beginning their evenings, we dragged ourselves back to our room.
We felt a little lame, but as I’ll discuss further in part three, we were learning that even though we weren’t with our kids, we hadn’t escaped parenthood.