Hello again fat fans. I have been slowly emerging from the fog of Vegas. Anybody who spends 5 days in that town knows what I'm talking about. It's especially grueling when you're hanging with a bunch of over the hill men who don't get out enough anymore. Don't get me wrong, hanging with a gaggle of aging adolescents has its moments. Aside from the always humorous body noises and smells men are famous for, this group also has its share of truly warped individuals. Hanging with these slightly depraved wise crackers always kicks up the hilarity a few notches.
I think it is incumbent upon me to relay to you that the "gentlemen" I am going on about in this column are not your average Joe's. They are very successful, hard working (or retired) affluent Americans. Doctors, lawyers, entrepreneurs and champions of industry all attend. Nothing draws a crowd of this magnitude like sunshine, golf, drinking and male bonding. Buffoonery is not only accepted, it is encouraged. You just can't beat a bunch of old dudes trying to emulate their younger selves.
The minds of some individuals do not process the way normal people do. We had a few of these "special" individuals on our trip and I was lucky enough to be present and bear witness to some real special tomfoolery. While on our bus to our first golf destination, one guy who spotted a LOST sign posted on a street lamp with a picture of a cat from some poor soul searching for her beloved pet. Of course his first instinct was to call the posted number and speak in a MEOW voice, as if the forlorn feline was calling home to be retrieved. Obvious belly laughter ensued and the MEOW voice permeated through our drunken conversations for days.
Another fellow lapsed into a quasi Chinese accent. After he saw this was humorously received by the rest of the group, he continued using it and combining it with impressions of other known individuals, celebrities and ethnic groups. I think we actually got a Chinese Jesse Jackson impersonation somewhere along the way. Of course, fueled by batches of alcohol, gang mentality took over and the whole group started using this new dialect and sharing in the merriment.
Then there was a super successful doctor I saw actually leave a $1.25 tip. If this wasn't enough ammo for his compatriots to pounce on him and reduce his testes to silica sand alone, he had to endure a week of dubious questions and adolescent remarks regarding his particular area of medicine. Of course he specializes in all things related to the female anatomy. Another boon for our band of brothers.
Booze, bravado and ball busting were the themes of the week. If you were one of the fortunate ones, you just laughed along with the group. The less fortunate fellows end up being the ass end of the jokes and the targets of all things whimsical. Needless to say, hanging with my crowd requires a thick skin. Any personal background, ethnicity, character flaw or physical malady is fair game to these aging punsters. It's a good thing my ass was half the size from last year. I was mercifully spared the the annual onslaught of fat barbs, jokes and zingers. Another unexpected Non Scale victory!
Five days of middle age debauchery is enough. I was lucky I knew my limits. As a veteran of 100+ Vegas trips, I gave up on the all night partying years ago. Staying out past midnight is a rarity. If I do burn the late night oil, I always pay for it the next morning. The emerging old man in me wakes up at around 5 am no matter the amount of sleep I have had, the liquor I have drunk or the the time zone I am in. I am a cursed early riser. Lack of sleep aside, if this bawdy band of bacchanalians announced they were going back next week, I would sign up in a heartbeat! (After I ask my wife and check with my doctors, of course.)
More to come!
Johnny aka "Richard Cranium"
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