STORY: Is THIS Spinal Tap?

Sure looks like Stonehenge to me.

NOTE: I HIGHLY RECOMMEND READING THIS BEFORE LOOKING AT THE PICTURE.

Remember when I said I’d be “making my own luck in the next 48-hours”? It was kind of a double entendre. I was dropping a little a hint about what we had in store. Yes, it was a reference to my 50DATES in 50STATES, but it was also something else.

You see, the morning after the wedding that never was, I was eager to jump into it. Meet some ladies. Try to kick this heart-ache square in the nads. But how’s a scrawny 6’2 Jew thousands of miles from home supposed to get his mack on? And keep in mind, when I say “ladies” that’s exactly what I mean. Plural. I’m a Sam’s Club pimp, I like shopping in bulk. But how?

The way I see it, there’s only one sure-fire way to attract girls in groups: money. Unfortunately, I’d spent all of mine getting to Las Vegas in the first place. And as those who know me will attest, I’m not all that lucky at the tables.

It was time to make some luck of my own. Manufacture it, if you will. And I will.

You know those cardboard checks they give you when you hit a slot machine jackpot? Sure you do, they hang ‘em by the door of most not-so-high-rent casino’s to attract suckers. Well maybe I’m a sucker like that. Or maybe not.

The plan was simple:

—Do a little research to find one of the lesser-known big money rollover machines.

—Go up to my room and approximate the machines logo on my computer.

—Put the logo on a check.

—Call back east to some of Jake Enterprise’s more helpful friends and get them to print the thing out—BIG. Jackpot big.

—Have them overnight the piece of paper to my hotel room, where I’d be waiting with spray adhesive and poster board to give the thing the proper consistency.

—Spend the rest of my time in Vegas wandering up and down the strip with my big score under my arm, getting ladies to pose for photos with me and my check.

If nothing else it’d be a good photo op. But who know what could happen if I forgot to tell someone it’s fake. I mean, can you imagine the craziness that would ensue if even once I was like, “What this? I know, crazy right. I don’t have a dollar in my pocket tonight, but you better believe I’m going to the bank tomorrow. Hey, what ‘cha doin’ later?”

Anyway, everything went according to plan. My logo was flawless. My counterfeit, beautiful. And my friends were willing to play along. It wasn’t until the tube arrived in the morning that I saw the error of my ways.

I’m no good with spatial relationships.

Yup, when I eye-balled the dimensions for the printer, it seems I was off by, oh, a fucking mile. In fact, it wasn’t until I unfurled the monstrosity that I truly realized what I’d done.

I didn’t make a check. I made fucking wallpaper.



And another failed post in the process. The room was too small… I couldn’t even squeeze it all into one photo. Oh well. Sometimes there’s nothing left to do but laugh at yourself.


ABOUT THE 50 DATES IN 50 STATES—The lines are now open, but this time, we’re going to do things in a more organized fashion. Anyone interested in taking part should send their name, age, working phone number and picture to 50DATESin50STATES@gmail.com. Please be sure to include your hometown, state, nearest airport, any strange or interesting points of interest, a suggestion or two for what we might do on our date and a compelling argument for why you should be the one. When planning our outing though, please keep in mind I’m damn near broke; the opera could be nice, but a picnic and a freak-show would be nicer. See you soon…