I used to travel to Vegas each fall for work. They host a huge trade show for the bike industry and we would spend five days in meetings, hanging out with a bunch of bike industry friends, and being entertained by sales folks.
One particular trip we got there a day early to set up the booth, and for some unfair reason that year, I was also on the tear down crew. So I got to spend seven full days in Las Vegas.
If you’ve ever been to Vegas, then you know three or four days is more than enough. Seven is getting dangerously close to putting any mortal soul into rehab upon their arrival home.
Normally when I went down there it was more work than play and I behaved myself for the most part. No gambling, not as much drinking as you’d think, and I would manage to get six hours of sleep most nights.
But, for whatever reason this trip things got out of hand. After set up we went for dinner and met a bunch of friends. I don’t remember exactly what time I got to bed, but the sun was coming up. The trade show, and endless meetings, began at 8 a.m., so I’d started off in the hole when it came to rest.
I’ll make a very long week into a short story here.
The last two days had me awake and “functioning” for 56 hours straight.
Apparently a few Red Bull/vodkas can do wonders.
We flew home and I experienced the worst jet lag I could ever imagine. It took me two weeks to recover and get back to feeling somewhat human again. (Don’t argue, we’re calling it jet lag) No matter how we label it, I had a lot of fun, but it was not worth the two weeks of recovery.
This is all on my mind these days because I am feeling the same this week as I did after that crazy trip 15 years ago.
Apparently working all hours of the night, stressing about renovations, and then moving Swicked in three days, is not dissimilar to going off the rails in Vegas for a week. It definitely was not as much fun, but the hang over is bang on.
Back then, I didn’t get much out of that trip, short of a few good stories and an insane hangover … well, probably more like a dozen good stories, but you know what they say about Vegas.
At least in this scenario, we have a huge pay-off with an awesome new shop in a great location. On a side note, my bar bill is substantially less this time around and hopefully I’ll be recovered in a couple of days as opposed to a couple of weeks.
Chenoa would argue this, but maybe I am getting smarter in my old age. I guess we’ll find out at our grand re-opening party this Saturday night.
Feel free to swing by if you can, maybe we’ll keep it on the rails this time.
I’m James Durand and I’m Going’ Ridin’
