Two Guys Lose Weight: The Las Vegas challenge

NOTE: This is a blog about two guys attempting to lose weight over a six-week period. They kicked off their weight-loss “strategies” on Jan. 10.

Was it to be whatever gets eaten in Vegas stays in Vegas? Probably not.

I was invited to travel to Sin City with some lovely people who you would have wanted to hang out with too. Luxury accommodations, two fantastic bands and enough days to soak it all in at a respectable pace.

So naturally our first dining encounter was at the In-N-Out outside of Barstow.

For a man who has stayed away from cheeseburgers for 40 days and 40 nights, this was the most delicious meal in ages. The cheese was welcomed home by the tongue and teeth and glided its way down my gullet like it was on a water-park slide. And the French fries, my true loves, were more than happy to join the party.

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Robert Plant once asked “do you remember laughter?” and my tummy began to remember it right before my heart laughed with delight. Welcome back, old friends.

We got to the hotel and the views were colorful and beautiful. One of the ladies had brought homemade cookies. Cookies? Would a man who had eaten six cookies a day for two weeks want to even say the word cookies? Yes, please, was his response. Her cookies melted in his mouth. It was like a delightful dream. Nothing like the last remaining Cookie Diet cookies, these were made with butter and sugar and love.

Then the drinking began. It lasted all night. We didn’t rise till 1 p.m. the next day.

My boss Jimmy, who moonlights as a mathematician, once alerted me that if one goes without food he can drink 13 shots of booze. So Saturday we started drinking immediately and made our way over to the Wynn for a classy lunch.

We sat in a flowery restaurant that had mostly cleared out. I looked at my shrimp pasta and toyed with it, but it didn’t seduce me the way the burger had. In fact it didn’t do anything but get in the way of the drinking. I didn’t even nibble on one of the many bread sticks. I just drank my whiskey and water and enjoyed the surroundings. Later my doggie bag would be handed to a homeless man who needed it much more than I.

That would be the end of the food consumption for Saturday. And as Jimmy consulted, indirectly, many more drinks would be consumed as if they were food.

Sunday morning came and went and there was Sunday afternoon. Our group had expanded to six really wonderful people. It was like a dream. Happy people who only wanted one thing: good fun. So we walked across the street to a Vegas buffet of the type you remember from dlden days. Every type of delectable was represented, including hash and hushpuppies and sushi rolls and bacon.

Sort of disgusting, sort of decadent. Some of us (not I) went back for seconds. I just worked on my plate, and I can’t say I finished it all. It wasn’t as good as the booze.

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The gorging made us sleepy, so we took disco naps and let the Vegas afternoon turn to night. Then we headed to the rock show and drank more. It may sound like I have a problem. Perhaps I do. Probably not, though. If you ask me, the problem would be if I was eating and gambling this whole time. I was merely imbiding in one dalliance. Not many.

The show was the Ohio duo the Black Keys at the Cosmopolitan with OutKast’s Big Boi as the opener. It was fantastic. Only bad thing was we were very close to the stage and it was extremely hard to run back and forth to the bar, so we only had two drinks. Followed by a post-concert beer. No dinner was eaten. We thought about it at 1 a.m., but the ladies reminded us that it wasn’t good to eat a lot before you went to bed.

As we got to our hotel room I said, what if I ordered a pizza? Everyone’s eyes got big and mouths slowly opened, and even though there was a collective heck yes, no pizza came and we all drifted to sleep.

Here we are at Monday morning. Time to check out. The stomach is a tad hungry and the head isn’t hurting but the ears are ringing. And something tells me that before we leave this sinful city one more buffet will be visited -- for old time’s sake. But definitely no more drinking.

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