So now your wondering what exactly this job is huh?

Your thinking, gee, that was great and spiritual and all, but what is this job, you didn't explain it at all!

Your probably yelling at your computer screen, at least in your mind.

Well just relax okay? I'm working on it...

The company I now work for....









I love messing with ya now that your hopes are up...


Okay, I work for a company that deals in ticket pre-sales, fan club maintenance, online merchandising, and marketing of USB live performance software among other things, working closely with major recording artists and some companies. Basically, I maintain online merch, work with customers, and help run work with the live performance USBs.

But on occasion, I get to travel!

This occasion has only happened once so far, but with future opportunity awaiting.

This one occasion took place last Thursday through Monday, with a backdrop of bright lights and dark shadows.

That is, Las Vegas.

It was a great trip, I got to fly, see the city, work hard, and see my awesome friend Lindsey Peonie. But let me sum it all up with the first days events.

I woke up in Austin at about 5:45 am, to get to the airport at a decent time. Although that is not a decent time. I got to the airport and took off at about 7:40, arrived in Phoenix, sat on the plane, then flew on to Las Vegas, arriving at something like 11 am there.

I was picked up by my co-worker Aaron, who I had never previously met, and we proceeded to the hotel. I threw my bags in his room, since I hadn't recieved one yet, and we proceeded to the hotel's casino floor to eat at one of 6 restaurants. After having a late breakfast, we went to his room, discussing work and waiting on my room reservations to come through.

I started to doze on his couch.

Therefore, I decided to check on my room. Via text and calls, Norman told me it should be ready. The intimidating line at the front desk had obviously been observed and calculated for, and it moved along with great ease. When I quickly reached the front, I was directed to one of the desks, at which the young lady informed me that the room was reserved but that the necessary credit card verification had not come through. I didn't want that hanging over my personal credit card, so I bowed out of the line and called Norman. He said he would notify me when it came through.

I sat.

For 45 minutes.

I finally just got in the line again. As it moved I figured I had like a 1 in 8 chance of getting the same girl again, which I actually hoped for because she somehow managed to come across sympathetically in a chaotic lobby of guests. Plus I think she was a manager or something. But my odds were with those of most of the casino gamblers surrounding the front desk area, and I drew another girl at the opposite end of the counter. I had the smart idea of calling Norman as I approached the desk, so I could talk to them at the same time. Possibly rude, remarkably efficient.

She said it still hadn't gone through, and he said they were working on it at the office. So I sat back down again. Half an hour later I decided to get back in the line. My odds of getting a repeat clerk had spiked up to 2 out of 8, which is easily rounded to 1 out of 4 with only the slightest math. But, as you better know if your going to Vegas, those are still bad odds. I got a young guy. I think this hotel is one of those places where they pay you extra to be really really nice, because they all seemed well composed. Maybe they were just used to it. Maybe the weak ones were just weeded out long ago. He went back to see if the fax had come through. I gave him about 5 minutes. He gave me a room key.

From there, I lugged my stuff back through the smoky casino to the elevators. I was still shocked they allow smoking inside such a fancy place. Sign of my age maybe. The first time I saw a guy smoking I thought, he's gonna get busted! Then I realized they were all doing it.

In my room I managed to pull a 45 minute nap that was so deep I forgot were I was and why. I almost forgot who I was. From there, we went to the Thomas Mack Center, the college stadium where the Bull Riding Championship we were recording was taking place. I would learn well the tricks of the trade for navagating hallways crowded with 1,000 cowboys.

After working from about 2:30 to 10:30, we were starved. We went to the Hard Rock Hotel and ate at a place that would have appeared as a high quality greasy spoon with low level class anywhere else. But in Vegas, it was simply clique'. Mr. Lucky made me a couple eggs benedict with Hollandaise sauce, and we chatted about Rick Ruben and the club next door that sounded like it was about to spill through the wall at any moment.

We finally went back to the car, at which point we decided to drive down the strip. It was a good compromise, since we were tired and full but I hadn't seen anything yet. We were stopped at a red light, going south just before reaching the Bellagio, of Ocean's 11 fame. I could practically see the movie starting before my eyes.

So we're stopped, chatting about something much less interesting that the rest of this story, when a Blazer wedges itself between the car to our left and us, plowing through and taking half of each car's front fender, all while aiming at the taxi in front of us. After hitting the three of us, the driver slowly meanders out into the perpendicular moving traffic, slowly waiting, then took a quick left when the traffic dissipated. He was soon followed by 4-5 cruisers and a few motorcycles too.

We sat in traffic for about 15 minutes. Then we pulled off on a side road. I saw the top of the Bellagio fountains going off in the distance over some buildings. For some reason, the cops take your license to run even where your a passanger in a vehicle that was not at fault in a hit and run. We sat out in the cold for an hour and a half. One of the cops was nice enough to tell us "Welcome to Vegas!" It was 1:30 am. That's 3:30 am in Austin, where I had gotten up that morning at 5:30.

Finally, the cops came back and told us the story. I guess there was a silver lining. The guy and some others had broken into homes, stolen guns, stolen vehicles (aka- the Blazer) and then caught the attention of a cop looking for him. He caused like 4 of 5 similar accidents to ours, then got himself cornered in a parking garage. Being a natural born genius, he jumped from the second floor, broke both legs, and was in the hospital. Lucky guy was in bed, but I'm sitting on the street by a bus stop. One of his friends was pulled over on the highway and arrested, and another was sleeping in one of the hotels, about to get a wake up call courtesy the Las Vegas PD.

I guess that made a 22 hour day kinda worth it.

Oh yeah, and the taxi driver found a strip from the side of the blazer wedged up under his car. Apparently their vehicles had become so intimate that his rear wheel well had peeled the side panel off the offending vehicle.

And they let him keep it.

Oh well, I had to buy my souviner.