Hi there, boys

The hooker was duly impressed with my lack of maturity. She had given up the ass-swagger walk used by most ladies of the night for a motorized walkway.

My friends and I had just finished the third night-long bender of the Vegas trip. We were using the opposite walkway to make our way toward bed and eventually our homes. I was lightheaded, tired, and a little more than loopy. I was entertaining my friends with walkway tricks. The moonwalk with the walkway. The sprint against the walkway. Walkways are fun.

As the hooker slid past us, I finished my final sprint in the huff of overdrunk pre-30 white boy. I looked up, breathed in her general direction and tried to compose myself.

"Hi there, boys," she said, the smile of a streetwalker fading into the amused laugh of a regular girl. Boys are silly.

That was how my trip to Vegas ended. A hooker being taken away by a motorized walkway. It seemed appropriate.

The rest of the trip was one continuous day of poker playing, drinking with my buddies, and more laughs than I can count.

I have recounted a few tales over at Up For Poker. You'll find the first two installments under the heading Otis in Vegas. One more installment is still to come. As the site is geared toward gamblers, it's written with gamblers in mind. Nevertheless, you'll get a feel for my trip.

Now, I'm in a post-Vegas fog and trying to get my head back together.

Until then, may all your gambles be winners.