This weekend Dawg, The Terrorist, and I drove to the Tropicana in Atlantic City, NJ for a little R&R.

I offer you the trip in photos and video, along with a little explication.

Ladies, if you want to be hit on constantly then you go on a trip with The Terrorist. I warn you: He also hit on a crack addict prostitute (elaborated on at the end of this post). His standards for flirting are: anything with a vagina, and sometimes he’ll hit on men for practice.

(Side note of seriousness: I adore The Terrorist, he is a great friend. I feel bad if I let you think he isn’t an awesome guy because he truly is. But if you ever get to meet him and he flirts with you just to get in your pants then you’re not meeting the real man behind the one night stand. Just sayin’.)

As soon as we got there we did pre-check-in where we stood on line to reserve our hotel rooms then we played a couple of slots while we waited for Pajamas and his Girl of the Day to show up. I know Pajamas from the vollies corps, but the guys who aren’t at the stage of life to settle down typically bring a girl to have fun with while they’re there, and that’s the type of girl Pajamas brought so I shook her hand and could pick her out in a line-up, but I didn’t get to know her. (If I see her 4 more times I’ll ask her what she does for a living, if that makes you happy.) Pajamas and his flavor of the weekend were on their way back home so we said goodbye to them and I played my Enchanted Unicorn game until I lost my $20.

(Side note of seriousness: Pajamas is a great guy from what I personally know about him. NYC is just a weird beast of a place where guys don’t seem to settle down until they’re “old” so in the meantime they are essentially perceived as woman grinders, as in they go through a lot of them. And Pajamas is young enough where he’s still grinding through the ladies. Some day I’m going to sit Pajamas and all the other young’uns down and tell them what it’s like in Vermont, how the “game” is played, and all their minds will be blown to bits.)

Terror, Dawg, and I went to The Fiesta buffet to eat a lot of food. I had carving station flank steak and roast turkey, corn on the cob, a baked potato, salad with blue cheese dressing, and a chocolate mousse with a Coke to drink. I tried a cheese ravioli with lobster sauce, but as happens EVERY time I try seafood I hated it so I gave the ravioli to Dawg who was very much enjoying the seafood with Terror.

After food we went back on line to get our room keys, at which point I used my newly acquired Diamond Club card coupon for a free room upgrade to get us one of the newly renovated rooms in the South tower of the Trop.

That photo is of him sitting on his hotel bed, watching the Sex and the City movie rather than going downstairs to play the slots with me and Dawg. Yes, he came all the way to a hotel to watch TV. But his room was comped, so what the hell does he care if he’d rather cry over Carrie’s wedding dress? He agreed to make a reservation for us all to have dinner at Red Square at 7:30pm then Dawg and I strolled the boardwalk and I snapped a few photos:

…but the sound of the ocean is what I needed to take home with me so I took this video:

…and cried the whole time. The ocean is a very bittersweet experience for me.

We sat down on the boardwalk and just people watched until dinner time then we met up with Terror and went to Red Square for salad, steak, and Russian vodkaaaaaa:

After dinner we walked back to the casino area to put $20 at a time into colorful, musical machines of fun.

[INSERT PHOTO OF CASINO FLOOR HERE USING YOUR IMAGINATION SINCE PHOTOS OF THE CASINO FLOOR ARE FORBIDDEN.]

I got hit on by a crack addict who ordered a Midori sour with a cherry from one of the MANY waitresses who never, ever gave me the time of day (note to self: next time wear a hat that says “I want a free drink and I tip better than the old pervy guys”) even though I dropped $250-$300 overall into their shiny machines that night, then the guys decided to play the tables so I brought Rebel back up to the hotel room then played some slots on my own and wandered back over to The Quarter to see what other trouble I could find, but Dawg called me to tell me he and Terror were done losing at the tables so I went back up to the room with Dawg and we had fanfuckingtastic sex on the edge of a tall bed and went to sleep. (Yes, Finn, apparently it always is. I apologize to you.) (No photos of that either.

The next day I got all dressed up in my next day outfit, including my Bongo jeans I hafta squeeeeeeeeeeze into then found out that we weren’t playing any more casino games, but in fact were leaving the hotel. After we were all packed up Dawg tried his hardest to get Terror to answer his damn hotel door then Dawg and I went downstairs:

and I shopped at James’s for taffy and chocolates to take home then got a yummy bacon, egg, and cheese on a Kaiser and a small hot coffee at Adam’s deli (SUPER GOOD). After we left the hotel Dawg drove us left onto Atlantic…

People in Atlantic City are kinda crazy. The tourists, sure, but the locals definitely. Some prostitute was screaming on Atlantic Avenue then came over to the Dunkin’ Donuts the 3 of us were in and started screaming for a cab driver because no cab had driven by in a half hour to pick her up and she had $500 in her titties and she was sober and somebody better drive her to where she needed to go, and everyone just laughed at her and called her a crazy bitch so she left and wandered into traffic, almost getting hit by more than one car, then sat at the bus stop instead of getting on the bus that was at the bus stop. Only on Atlantic Avenue… (We have an Atlantic Avenue near us in Queens, and the same savory crazy people hang out on it!

And that’s the trip, folks!

Full photo set is here. Dawg will have his own photos up eventually.