My crew, essentially the same crew from 'Roughed up Room and the Russian Mob', checked in to our hotel room at the Holiday-Inn Boardwalk and Casino. We dropped off our bags in the room, and proceeded towards a mid-afternoon session involving craps, video poker, and margaritas in the casino part of the hotel. There we met a very good friend of mine who had just arrived from Utah. So we all hopped in the cab of his truck and headed for the lot. 

For the most part, the police and security seemed to be fairly laid back, with the exception of officers opening a vacant car and taking out 3 tanks from the trunk. At the time it was time to go shopping, for we had a long night ahead of us. We were able to procure about 35 hits between the four of us dosing. When arriving at my seat, sweat was now seeping out off me. Feeling a bit jaded, I began to try to rationalize my the cause of perfuse sweating. Must be the climactic change, I said to myself.  A brisk Chicago to the warmth of Vegas can make a big difference. 

Okay... We walked out of the show thoroughly satisfied, especially to hear both Fluffhead and Carini. An appearance from my dirty brother Kid Rock, even added a spontaneous aspect to the show. So we took it to the streets. Stopping at every casino on the strip, ordering a drink, and walking out with their glass. We decided this would be our unachievable goal of the night. "Stopping at every casino on the strip, and walking hitting the strips with their glass." Needless to say we were both tripping and drinking at a very rigorous pace. 

At one point of the excursion my friend Aaron started leaking right outside of Bally's, a sight that I just had to turn my head at. It's Vegas, and we are "carpe diem," there was nothing more to it.  Each being very different in our party manners.  Anyways, our "casino crawl" seemed to be going successful, until we walked out of Caesar's Palace and looked across the street. The brightly illuminated GREENS and GOLDS shot off like some distant view of heaven. The sign reading "O' Sheas." And there we stayed. 

Anybody that has been a patron of "O'Sheas" while being on a Phish run in Vegas knows exactly what I am talking about. Its a casino, very much like that of "Cheers." It is also the place that you will least likely be thrown out of. Anyways we left O'Shea's at 9:30 a.m. on Saturday morning, a complete mess. We couldn't exactly sleep for it was Trey's birthday and we were in high anticipation for the 2nd night's show. 

We then ate at a buffet, and then eventually went back out on the strip, showerless. If I know the repercussions of my actions, at that specific time, I probably would have stopped to take a shower. But Vegas seemed far too enticing for me and showering seemed like an interuption in the whole Vegas experience. 

Back on the strip my friend Shaun and I hit up the Bellagio, for an 11:30 a.m. Long Island. I was told that the two-ply toilet paper at the Bellagio was exquisite, maybe I should have used it to wipe the sweat off the inside of my upper legs which were in the beginning stages of irritiation. But I figured that somehow I would get by. It must have been the devilish hallucinogens dissuading my mind to clean myself. Do you know when you want to do something, but you just can't function in a manner to do it, well it was just one of those rare times. Needless to say the morning and afternoon were very long. 

Nevertheless, we eventually hit the parking lot. Go through the same motions as the night before. By this time the mild irration associated with innner part of my upper thighs had grown to extreme portions. How extreme, I would not actually know until eventually arriving back at the room. During the show, I tried to keep my dancing within a minimum range of motion, because of the horrible "chapping" or "chaffing" that was occurring. I rocked and I swayed, with Kuroda's lights exactly emphasize the mindset of the music. 

On a side note, the show was a very special one for me and the crew, having it been our personal last stop on the tour. "A Day in the Life" being a very emotional moment, though I didn't know whether the tears running out of my eyes where from the melodic music or the awful condition of my upper thighs. 

When the show ended, we lost our ride back to the hotel and were forced to walk. I tried to walk normal, but was completely unable to. People looked very strangely at me, with new uncontrollable strut. They surely must have thought that I had a bowel movement in my pants. Since we were unfamiliar with the area located outside of the strip, we found ourselves criss-crossing through alleys and streets in search of a way home. During our walk home we crossed through an alley consisting of three small bars. 

As we passed, I saw many same-sex couples holding hands. I then looked up to see a rainbow Bud Light sign. Not that I am in any way homophobic, but the patrons must have looked at me in a very funny way with my new patonned "strut." It was just one of those odd times where you look at life and just laugh. 

When arriving back at the hotel, I jumped I finally jumped in the shower to investigate the damage of my "chapped ass," what my comrades called it. The entire inside of my upper thighs were near purple. When arriving back at home, my walking habits never became fully normal for the past week. The moral of the story: when partying at O'Shea's (and other casinos on the Vegas strip) it is in your best interest to bring a showerhead.

 - Ryan (Bennett)