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"Jim", I said to my namesake as I made my way into Burke's, "I feel like Sammy the Bull himself has worked me over." "You look like you've taken a beating. Did the machines get the better of you?" He asked as he continued washing glasses. I felt through my pockets for a few crumpled ones to pay for my drink and said "Worse. I was at an industry event until 3 a.m, where Japanese salarymen breathed unfiltered cigarette smoke in my face, a terrorized goat left his mark on the buffet table, and someone vomited on my shoes. I spent the rest of the night tearing down booths and now I'm taking it all to Beijing where we'll set it all up again next week. I need a drink and a meal." Jim, being at least ten years my senior, knows things. For example, when someone sidles into your bar at 9 a.m. needing food and a drink, what he means is "make it a Bloody Mary and make it a double." He didn't wait for me to verbalize my request, he just started assembling. After a few minutes activity, he placed a pint glass of goodness in front of me with the requisite stalk of celery. He apologized for the quality of the mix they used. "It's the same sauce they use for pizzas in the restaurant next door, but I'm pretty sure it has tomatoes in it." "Normally, " says my new mixologist friend, "any tale involving a goat and someone puking on your shoes would be a worthy story, but this is Las Vegas and that only ranks about 1 on a scale to ten. You computer types need to take a lesson from the cowboys we get during the National Finals Rodeo--*they* know how to have a party with livestock." We spent the better part of an hour talking about golf courses we've played and how much alimony costs in Vegas, where one marriage in 7 lasts longer than the lease payment on a Lexus. Another Bloody Mary later, the reality sunk in that I was in yet another airport bar run by Delaware or HMS Host, paying $12 on my personal AMEX for a $4 drink and happy to do so. And Jim was just another good Samaritan doling out liquid life to us poor battered bastards as we go about the world, doing business and trying to keep some small portion of our souls intact. Flag This Review - jimshady, Saturday, January 16, 2010 at 8:43 AM
If you're like me, you understand the importance of diet and exercise. I wasn't just born with these Hot Buns! No matter what that BITCH Lance tells you, I won my four--count em, Lance, FOUR!--Mr. Hot Buns USA titles from dedication and hard, hard work. Sometimes, though, you need a break from training. That's how me and the "boys" ended up in Vegas. Now, when I'm not training, I like to drink what I like to drink. And to me, that's a 7-and-7, blended rocks, with 10 maraschino cherries and sugar on the rim. I hate it when bartenders get all "really?!?" when I order my "Lucky Sevens." They're just jealous because of the Hot Buns, I think. Anyway, I'm happy to report that the bartenders Burke's Box were perfectly pleasant. Thanks guys. You know I'll come again! Flag This Review - mr hot buns, Friday, January 8, 2010 at 3:28 PM Add a Review:
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