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 by jeff berson When I got the call to join the Lunchboxing crew in Las Vegas, I figured I couldn't miss the golden opportunity. They didn't invite me on their first trip (a weekender to Modesto last year), and after many tearful nights, I finally accepted the fact that maybe they didn't want me there. But this time, I got the "Evite", and I was the first one to respond with a "YES! -Thank you guys, I can't wait". I couldn't believe that I was finally going to get the opportunity to hang out with Flam, Fazio, Betrue, Weisbart, Nicely, and Molloy!!! Not being a Geography Major in Junior College, I didn't know what state it was in, so I typed up "Las Vegas" on Yahoo! Maps. Nevada came up as the first choice, but that didn't sound right. Then it occured to me that it had to be in one of the "Four Corner States". Sure enough, I was so right! Las Vegas, New Mexico here I come!! The boys were staying at the Flamingo Hilton, so I set out to meet them at the hotel. From there it would be guaranteed non-stop laughs all weekend and a chance to bond with the guys. I was also told Las Vegas was full of gambling, buffets, cheap liquor, and easy women, so I packed my lucky "winners sombrero", my rib and sauce-eating bib, a bottle of Grand Daddy Whisky, and my mail-away box of 100 condoms with drawings of Yoda on them. This was going to be a great weekend!! The drive took only 15 hours with an 8-minute stop in Phoenix to buy a lotto ticket. When it was all said and done, I put an extra 957 miles on the speedometer of my '83 Buick LeSabre Classic Wheels Edition. I can't tell you how excited I was when I passed Santa Fe. I stopped at the gas station and they pointed me in the direction of the Hilton. I got a room, (I was lucky there was a vacancy) and waited for the boys. The front desk confirmed that they hadn't checked in. In fact they had no one registered under the names Flam, Fazio, Betrue, Weisbart, Nicely, or Molloy. I didn't think twice about it though-the guys were definitely on their way!! I didn't have any of their cell phone numbers, so I waited for 9 hours. During my wait, I figured that I would get jacked up on the Whisky and warm Coronitas I had in my suitcase. I pounded it all in anticipation of a wild night. Finally, I figured the guys were probably just in the lobby gambling. I stumbled to the lobby, and there were some Native Americans sitting on the couch. I asked them where the casino was. They told me about the Isleta Casino 115 miles away (near Albuquerque). That must be where the boys are! After an hour of vomiting (probably as a result of mixing the Grand Daddy Whisky with Cuervo Gold), I hopped back into my Buick and headed towards Isleta without hesitation. I stopped in Las Cruces to scratch off my lotto ticket, but unfortunately I did not win. On the way, I got pulled over for speeding and drunk driving (There was no chance of me walking a straight line because I was blitzed!!). Luckily, the cop was friendly. I rode with him all the way to jail in the comfy back seat. He even talked to me a bit about what I had in store for me. He told me about the classes and the therapy sessions I would have to attend and the mandatory community service programs that would take up a lot of my time. I think his name was Nester English, or Ned English.  Although he never made it to Isleta, Berson had the weekend of his life At the Las Cruces police station, I spent the night in jail, allowing me enough time to sober up. I was refreshed and after mustering up enough money for bail, I hit the road with renewed excitement. That excitement came to a quick end, however, when I ran out of gas and there wasn't another gas station for 39 miles. At that point, I just put on my Sombrero, and tried to flag down cars. One car was full of Native Americans, but they didn't stop (maybe seeing the sombrero made them think I was a cowboy, which would certainly scare them). More cars passed, but no one pulled over. Finally the sheriff drove by, and he called a tow-truck for me to get me to the gas station. By that time it was late Sunday morning, and I had to head home because I had to wax and detail Wayne Herman's sedan. I filled the car with gas, and I hit the trail, saying bye to Las Vegas, the city of adventure and excitement!! After 18 more hours on the road, I finally made it to my apartment at 4:00 A.M.. But it was all worth it; I can finally say I've been to Las Vegas and I had a blast with all my buddies. I wonder how the boys made out at Isleta???? I'm sure I'll hear all about it! 
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