My dad and I are currently traveling California. We’ve never
taken a long trip like this before just us 2. I’ve never really got to travel
California, and my dad has family is LA that he hasn’t seen in 20 some years.
We flew into San Francisco yesterday. I flew from Charlotte, and my dad flew
from Indianapolis. Miraculously, our planes landed at the same time. I flew in
a suit yesterday because I’m going to a show in Vegas that prefers you to wear
business professional. Let me speak to the men real quick. If you’re looking for
a power trip, wear a suit when flying. I had multiple people beg for my
forgiveness when running into me, and the kicker is: it wasn’t even their
fault, but I played the “it’s cool but don’t let it happen again” card. I had
an infant call me “da-ddy.” Presuming this was the child’s first word, I
stepped aside from my cool guy act for a moment and cracked a half open smile.
I got a scotch on the plane because I had 2 “free drink” coupons I had to use
on my flight by the end of the year or they’d expire. Actually, who am I
kidding? I did it because I was at the peak of my power trip and that’s what we
as certified-jackasses-who-think-because-they-wear-a-suit-they-can-be-a-jackass
do. So, my power trip was going fantastic, then my dad and I meet for the first
time in the San Francisco airport. My dad saw me and said in that
overly-excited dad voice in front of everybody, “Hey! You’re lookin’ sharp!” I
was all like, “daaaaad” in my “embarrassed teenager” voice. My cover was blown.
Power trip ended.
Straight from the airport we drove to Lake Tahoe, which is
where we are currently. It was about a 3 hour drive, but it took us 4 because:
1. We had to stop at In’N’Out Burger and B. We stopped at least 3 times to take
pictures of the scenery because it’s incredible. My dad wanted to stay at
Harrah, which is a hotel/casino. My dad was just as excited about the hotel
room than he was the scenery. Our room has two bathrooms, which is pretty cool.
Before I go on, you should know that my dad enjoys the simplest of things.
That’s all. With that being said, my dad called me into his bathroom to show me
that his toilet seat was one of those that you couldn’t slam shut, but was one
that shuts gradually on its own. When I was in Japan, one of my hotel rooms had
a toilet that you could press a button and water surges out of the toilet,
cleaning out your arse before you wipe. See, I thought it was weird, whereas my
dad would have been on his knees in worship.
We got back to our hotel from dinner last night at around
8:30. My goal was to stay up until 10 there time which is 1am my time. My dad
asked if I wanted to join him at the blackjack table. I joined him so I could
try to beat my jet lag. Sorry, I forgot to explain why I was so tired. I got up
at 4am to catch my 6am flight. I traveled 9 hours to San Fran, then got in a
car and drove another 4 hours to Lake Tahoe. Anyways, I was at the blackjack
table and my dad asked me if I knew how to play. I arrogantly laughed, “Yes I
know how to play.” My dad replied, “Ok…” in that “you don’t know what the hell
you’re getting into” voice. The first hand I was dealt I wanted to stay, so I
told the dealer just that. She said that I had to slide my cards under my
chips. The hardest part about blackjack is communicating to the dealer that you
want to stay. I was having great difficulty sliding my cards under my chips. My
left hand was doing all of the work, so I reached out my right hand to lift the
chips up so that I could slide my cards under. As I reached out my right hand,
the dealer said, “Nope you can only use one hand, and you can’t touch your
chips when you’ve already bet them.” You’ve got to be shitting me I thought. The
dealer wouldn’t go onto the next player until I did so. My hands were shaking,
and I had worked up some back sweat as all the players were staring at me in
amazement, including my own father. After 20 seconds of me performing, in my mind, a magic trick,
I finally got the cards to go under my chips. Success. The dealer ended up
getting a 21.
Currently, I’m writing this blog just shy of 5am because: A.
I went to bed at around 10:30 last night and still am a little jet lagged and
2. My dad is redefining the phrase “sawing the logs.” Until next time.