Guest Column: Nick the Cabbie - “Double Down Saloon” July 5
This English guy has been talking about how much trouble he’s going to be in during the entire trip to his hotel. The entire trip to his hotel…from the strip club. The three remaining passengers offer to go up to his room, wake the sleeping wife and help fabricate a believable story, but, for some strange reason, he politely declines their generosity. “We’ve got to get some rest anyway,” one of them says, “but don’t worry, we’ll come visit you in England. You’re going to see us again sooner than you really want to.”
“Yeah, we’ve booked the same flight. We’ll be going home with you.” They all laugh and the car door closes. As soon as he’s out of sight, though, the next destination changes. “Take us to the Double Down!” someone says…with a small measure of authority. Unsure if it’s a unanimous decision I ask “Seriously?” The response is, “What do you mean ’seriously?’…don’t you believe us? Maybe we should get another cab.” I explain that most of the people I encounter in this city are lame and at this time on any other day they just get into my taxi and head back to their hotel rooms. “My friends are the only ones I’ve driven around that keep going until well after the sun is up.” (insert editor comment here)
[Editor's Note: Uhm, yeah, that would be me
]
Apparently they are on a quest to drink Olympia beer and, if they can be believed, the Double Down Saloon is the only place in the U.S. that sells it. “I don’t know how they can still afford to make it. Maybe they’re just a small company and this city gets everything that they make.” The guy in the front seat suddenly points to the east and asks, “What’s that strange glow in the distance?” and I have to explain: “Oh, you know…it’s Vegas. They installed neon lights behind those mountains.”
They tell me to leave the meter running and practically force me to join them. “C’mon, it’s The Happiest Place on Earth. You have to come in.” I don’t really want to sit outside anyway so I walk into the saloon with three complete strangers and approach the bar. It might be the happiest place on earth, but it doesn’t seem very saloon-like at all. “So what do you want? …a beer? …you want a beer, right?” the first guy asks me. Before I can answer the other guy says definitively “He wants Ass Juice.” Then he turns towards the bartender and asks “What’s in the Ass Juice tonight?” The guy behind the bar considers the question and says “Oh… (the pause is almost uncomfortable) …some stuff.”
[Editor's Note #2: I'm shocked! Las Vegas' fine, upstanding cab drivers would never drink on the job, surely! What's one little Ass Juice before breakfast time on a workday, anyway, I suppose? ]
Soon enough I’m changing into my newly purchased Double Down Saloon T-shirt in the restroom while “Wake Up” by The Living End plays on the music machine. I walk back out and they’ve started another game of pool so I pick out a couple more songs. Some of the music seems more obscure than Olympia beer and I’m more interested in the jukebox than their game…even though one of the guys keeps making shots that would impress a pool shark. Most of his other shots are closer to my skill level and I get the impression that it’s somehow related to all of the alcohol.
When we leave I think to myself that the placement of the door to the Double Down must surely have something to do with vampires because I’m hit square-on with the full force of the morning sun as we walk outside. Minutes later I’m dropping off guy number three and as soon as he’s gone I hear one of them say, “What was that guy’s name?” The other one responds “I have no idea. …Ted? …Phil?” They laugh a bit and then someone brings up the promise that they made to contact the English guy. The response to that is “If I’m stranded in some backwoods part of England and I have that guy’s number on speed dial I’m going to sit there and stare at it until the battery in my phone dies. That guy will get us in trouble (he briefly pauses) …or divorced! No good can come from him…he’d be the death of me. You’re a bad enough influence as it is. One person like that in my life is plenty.”
It’s only after they’ve gone that I realize I can’t remember their names, but I that’s cool. I’m sure they forgot mine before they got out of the cab, anyway. Sometimes fun has a price. Oh yeah…thanks for the shirt, guys. I guess sometimes fun also comes with a souvenir.