On Friday we checked out of our little hotel room in Union Square and got the Chrysler.  In the light of day the car looked even bigger than I remembered.  No wonder it wanted so much damn gas, the thing was huge.

Even though the car rental company thought I was the only driver, the Chrysler had been driven by DD the day before and the Viking that day.  The Viking, along with not being an “authorized” driver, does not have a valid driver’s license.  He uses an expired Canadian driver’s license for ID.  He’s not been denied entrance into bars or turned down for buying alcohol because, well, he looks well over 21, and probably also because his ID is so confusing to anyone checking it that they don’t realize it’s expired.

So the Viking had to drive carefully.  Sure, I could have driven, but I had done plenty of driving the day before and the Viking likes driving.  As the navigator, it was my job to find us an In-N-Out on our route.  I had gone to In-N-Out in Redding with my mother and the Viking wanted to experience the glory that is a tasty In-N-Out meal himself.

Not too long after getting out of the city, I reclined my seat and fell asleep.  The Viking woke me up saying he was hungry and it was In-N-Out time.  I looked around at the hills and trees and knew it was too late; we had passed all the In-N-Outs on the 80, and our next chance was Reno, our destination.  I apologized to the Viking for being a shitty navigator.

Once in Reno, I navigated us directly to the In-N-Out where we had delicious burgers and fries.  I don’t like hamburgers all that much, but I love me an In-N-Out burger.

We checked into our hotel, which was very near the In-N-Out.  The hotel was also very near where we were having the rehearsal dinner that night, and very near where the wedding was the next day.  The only reason we were in Reno was for my brother’s wedding; the city itself held no interest for me or the Viking, so we liked that our hotel was near where we had to be.

After the rehearsal dinner a few of us went to the closest casino for some fun.  The Viking got some cash and I sidled up to a blackjack table.  I sat in my favorite spot, third base, and began playing.  The minimum bet was just $5 so I began with $40.  As I played, I told the Viking what I was doing and what the other players were doing because the Viking had never played.

When I had to go to the bathroom, the Viking took over my seat and played blackjack for the first time.  When I returned from the bathroom and wanted my place at the table back the Viking didn’t get up.  The gambling bug got him!  I sat next to him and began anew with $40.

For a while a lady with long fake nails, the thumbs of which were about twice the length of the others, sat next to me.  She was in Reno for her wedding anniversary and we were there for a wedding so she was kind of put off when both the Viking and I said we had no interest in marriage.  I was put off by those creepy long thumb nails.

The Viking got a few blackjacks, I got a few blackjacks.  The Viking lost some hands, I lost some hands.  Then, just after we had both lost, we decided to walk away.  We cashed out ahead: from the original $40 that I had started with, the Viking had $45; and from the $40 I got after returning from the bathroom, I had $75.  Always nice to come out ahead.

The next day was the wedding.  It was small and nice and short.  Then, since I was a member of the groom’s family, I had to pose in a bunch of pictures.  The Viking took pictures of us getting our pictures taken, and of the ceremony, and of the reception so we could send them to my sister, who couldn’t make it to the wedding at the last minute.

The bar was open, the food was good.  During the reception there was a slide show of my brother and sister-in-law as they were growing up.  There were a few photos that included me with bad perms so I was lucky when the Viking still wanted to take me back to our hotel room and have his way with me.

Before we left I said goodbye to my brother.  We hugged and told each other that we love each other.  My family isn’t very effusive so genuine expressions of love are few and far between.

The next day after breakfast at my dad and step-mother’s house, we left Reno.  I don’t see any reason to go back there, but if you want to visit, or live there, try my dad’s website, which is all about Reno.

I swear.  True story.

Tags: booze, hotel fuck, SF love, words count

Categories: True Story.

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