After the crowd eventually split Graceland, we drove to a liquor store and bought some moderately OK beer. Not many brands anywhere we stopped. If it's ain't advertised on national TV, there's not much chance of finding it in Vegas. Then we rubbed the magic lamp, popped up at the Aladdin. Parked in valet. Went inside and tried to figure where the party at. We knew, because we were told, that they would be: In the buffet restaurant. At the bar. In the room. In someone's else's room. So I call Joe's room first, just because. The line's busy. I guess they must be there. Somebody's there. We go, and whoa, there's a partay a happenin'. So we drink some champagne, drink some beer, drink more champagne, beer. You get the idea. We must have stayed there for over an hour before someone said, "Hey, they're waiting for us to have the reception at the restaurant downstairs." Hmmm, maybe they'll have something to drink. And they do, you have to pay restaurant prices for it but at this point who cares. Besides they give the wedding party 5 magnums of Champagne, so that's fair, right?

     The Spice Market Buffet is the most expensive buffet we would go to in Vegas. $20. a head whether you're at a wedding reception or not. But it was by far the best food of any of them. The lamb rocked! Big shrimp. Thick prime rib. Well worth the extra bucks. An attentive staff had sectioned off a corner of the large room for us with a long table for the wedding party and all that stuff. No live band or DJ though. This was a serious eatin affair. Various ethnic stations were set up around the perimeter of the place. You just wander the world of food and grab what you want. So eat we did and eat and eat and eat. Have to save some room though as the restaurant also supplied, free of charge, a beautiful cake decorated with real red roses. Ahh, if only Joe could be here to see it, Wait a minute, where the hell is Joe? With whom, the groom? Oh he's back in the room taking a nap. Oh, Ok. He had a rough night last night, didn't want to spend his last night of bachelorhood not being stinkin' drunk. Where would be the fun in that? It's a guy thing. Get over it! Dawn is. Looks like this marriage may last with an understanding bride like this. Long as Joe is reciprocally cool. Oscillate, fate.

     During the face stuffing Debbie asks me to give the traditional "Best man" toast to the happy couple. I say it will be hard to do as only 1/2 of the couple is present. In a bit she asks again. Wait till Joe gets here I say. A couple minutes later she says, "Bob, give your speech!" I still hold out hope for the appearance of the groom. A long minute ticks by. Again I'm prodded. All right, all right. I relent. Sheesh, talk about being nagged. So I give my speech to the happy coup, er bride. As soon as I'm done Deb rises to give a speech she had prepared. I didn't know that it was customary for the Matron of Honor to give a speech and apparently she thought that protocol called for her speech to follow mine, thus the necessity of me speaking. NOTE TO DEB: You want to give a speech, just do it! Anyhow mine was about how the couple of Joe & Dawn together were more than the sum of their parts as they always seemed so happy together, happy together, how is the weather, ba ba ba ba, ba ba ba ba. Happy Together. Deb's speech was about how Joe asked her to date her sister and how she wanted them to have all the happiness they deserve. Sniff. I'm gettin' all misty.

     So we eat some more, drink some more. Joe finally arrives! I recap him on what he missed and he joins in on the wedding feast. The couple cut the cake and we all stuff it down before we generously tip the wait staff and skedaddle. Adjourning back to the room, so we can drink of course. Dawn and the girls go shopping then gambling. She's still wearin' the gown. I asked if she wanted to get changed but she said, "Hell no, I'm wearing this dress all day."  All the people in the casino would ask her, "Where's the groom?" "Up in the room, drinking," she replies. Up in the room Dip and Augie and I surf the net, bullshit and drink. Eventually, tired of walking I suppose, the girls come back. Then Augie, Marylou and I leave as the rest of them are heading out to Rio later for a show or something. Marylou and I tour the Strip with Augie, first parking at the Venetian, stopping at Treasure Island to see most of the pirate fight. They sink a ship and everything, cool. Then the volcano eruption at the Mirage after missing the white tigers who were at work with Sigfried and Roy at the moment. Then back to the Venetian for a couple of beers along the canal watching the gondolas float by. O Solo Mio. Then we left as Augie had to catch his flight back to Florida and we were his ride to the airport.

      It took the valet a while to get our car. Finally after a 20 minute wait we recognize it from the thousands of rentals being delivered curbside by valets 'cause ours is covered with Death Valley dust. Eventually we get moving heading south to McCarran. We get down near the airport and keep circling the place 'cause we can't find the road in. Eventually we stop at a gas station and ask how to get there even though we can see the place just across the street. The guy says, "Just climb the fence, you're right there." But Augie won't do that so we go down here make a left then make the second left and follow the signs. He gets there 40 minutes before take off but gets through security in time to board his flight on America West because he just has carry on luggage, no check in. When we get back to the Luxor the number of flying critters in the laser light was legion. Big things, small things, bugs, bats or birds, the debate continues. We were greeted with a sign that valet parking was full. The valet finally let us park once we prove we were guests by showing him our room keycard. And this was the guy who broke my trunk, you think he'd remember us, but no. Then he wants some cake as a bribe to let us park, but no. Karma, baby.

     Later I check out my best man gift from Joe, an Elvis Presley Zippo lighter. Nice. Made in Bradford Pa. EPP. Elvis Presley Products, I guess A gold mine for Prissilla. The King lives! If only to enrich others. He's still an entertainment though. He'll outlive us all.
 

Bride and Whom
 

Looking up in the Venetian
 

Luxor Laser