My friend Samir is getting married in June. When he told me he was going to be in Vegas this month for a medical convention, I suggested a bachelor party.
Just one catch: Samir is a religious Muslim, so no drinking, no gambling, no strippers and no sin.
That left one thing: matching t-shirts.
I picked the brightest, most obnoxious, most embarrassing shirts I could find: neon orange “Las Vegas County Jail” souvenir shirts.
Clearly these shirts are fake (i.e., clearly they’re not really the shirts that inmates wear in jail). Right?
Maybe not. When we sat down at Firefly in The Plaza, the two old ladies sitting at the table next to us immediately asked for a table change.
Great minds think alike.
On the way back to the car, we walked through Binion’s and came across three girls with matching neon green sweatshirts. (How stupid is that?) We knew we had to fight them or at least pretend to fight them and have somebody snap a picture. We chose the latter option.
If you scrutinize the photo, I think you’ll agree that we won the fake fight.
And so the march to adulthood continues…
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