Las Vegas Punk Rock Bowling

 Arriving home from Las Vegas and returning to normality is not easy. Reality is a joke. Where are the pools with the drugs and the booze and the punks and the tattoos? I don’t take drugs, but I strongly encourage them, especially for people who are boring. For the past five days I have been in Las Vegas for the Punk Rock Bowling Music festival and… well, where do I begin? Las Vegas is extraordinary. I arrived at my hotel, downtown, to a street full of punk rockers… more than I had anticipated even though the festival was starting that night. I did not realize at the time, due to my confusion over the time zone, that Greg Graffin of Bad Religion was in the hotel at that very moment in the midst of a book signing event. As well as this, bands were setting up at the Swimming Pool on the third floor for performances that would stretch into the night. This was to set the scene for the weekend. I struggled to get up to my room on the 10th floor because the escalator to the pool wasn’t working at that time and hundreds of individuals were using the elevator to get to see the bands or to return to their rooms after meeting Greg Graffin.

I dropped my bags in the spacious room and took the stairs back down to escape the escalator nonsense. I wanted a drink and something to eat so I ventured over to the Fremont Street Experience, which was just a short two-minute walk from my hotel. Being tired from work and the flight I was hoping to find a quiet bar where I could have a snack and a beer or two, but everything seemed so bright and busy with lights and music flashing and crashing all around. I drifted into an opening of bars that seemed almost closed, it was so quiet and calm, and stumbled upon a place called ‘Dick’s Last Resort.’ I peered through the window and saw a mostly empty bar, so I stepped inside and took a seat at the bar. ‘Oh, here’s another asshole.’ The bar lady shouted whilst looking at me. Then she looked at the customers to my left and shouted ‘you are really bringing all the assholes in tonight, ain’t ya?’ I was astonished and didn’t know what to say. ‘What the fuck do you want to drink?’ shouted the barman from the beer taps. I wasn’t sure if I should get up and leave or see this through to understand what was going on. At that moment in time, customers to my right ordered food and the barman shouted ‘well, that is a shit choice, but I will get it for you idiots’ and, laughing out loud, I realised that this was the theme of the bar. Their slogan is ‘Putting the F.U. into fun since 1985’ and their gimmick was to insult all patrons as much as possible in the name of dark slapstick comedy. It certainly worked, I laughed for several hours whilst enjoying drinks there, and I even walked out with a souvenir beer glass.

I woke up at 5am on the first morning, which horrified me because I realized I was in for an extremely long day with Bad Religion headlining that night. I took a walk around 6am and found a 24-hour diner where I had an omelette, coffee, and orange juice, then spent the morning reading, walking around the local area, and exploring the various places of interest and random craziness. I walked into a casino at 08:45am and saw a few people stumbling around with cocktails and cigarettes. That first morning, I stupidly walked away from the pool party because so many people were trying to get in (this would not be the case the following two days.). I managed to fight off the excitement for a short while and had a nap in my dark hotel room. I had planned to go to the festival around 5:30pm when it was getting cooler, and I had less chance of exposure, but awaking from the nap brought fresh waves of excitement and I showered, dressed, and ventured off to the festival. Sure enough, I spent the first three hours trying to find shaded spots where I could listen to and watch the bands from a distance. As the sun set behind the main stage, and The Interrupters came on, the night turned into a party. The Interrupters were fantastic but cherry on the cake was Bad Religion headlining.

There was no need to go for breakfast in the morning, I had left over pizza from the previous day and what is a punk rock festival without leftover pizza for breakfast in your hotel room? I went downstairs, bought a cup of coffee from the ‘Art Bar’ and went back to eat pizza, drink coffee, and watch the final day of English soccer. I was on such a high after the soccer and a good sleep (and considering that I had hardly had anything to drink the day before due to the volume of people at the bars in the festival ground) that I decided I was going to spend the day sipping alcoholic drinks. At 10:30am I walked down to the pool and, to my surprise, I walked straight inside with no people waiting. I walked immediately to the bar and ordered a beer. I then went and sat on the step of the pool with my feet in the water as I sipped the drink. Las Vegas, beer, sunshine, punk rock, swimming pool, tattooed punks… it felt like a dream. There was a small stage at the pool and at 11am a band started to play, I had no idea who they were, but I was in love with the moment. I returned to the bar and bought a frozen strawberry daiquiri. Sipping it a little too enthusiastically gave me a painful head rush caused by the ice. It passed after a few moments, and I continued to dance and drink.

When the heat became too much to bear, I went to my room, showered, then ventured across the street to a cold bar where I ordered several drinks. After this, I took an Uber to the newly formed Punk Rock Museum. This was a wonderful experience and I spent a couple of hours amazed by the items they had on display, including a couple of shirts that had been worn my Joe Strummer. I loved the atmosphere of the place. Afterwards, I once more headed to the festival. I saw Face to Face and then the British legends, GBH. I was so excited that I walked towards the stage before GBH began and I inevitably became embroiled in the mosh once the band started to play. I loved every second of it like a kid at his first ever show. Even when my lip was split open by a sharp elbow, I continued to dance and smile as my mouth filled with blood. GBH were the highlight of the festival for me. After them came Rancid. Sometime after that I stumbled home to my hotel bed.

On day three I awoke hungry and without coffee or food, so I got out of bed and took a walk to a place I had read about called ‘Hash House a Go Go’. They had a really cool diner-like feel and I sat at the bar. I was given a huge glass of water and I also ordered coffee and orange juice. Finishing breakfast, I started to think of taking advantage of the lack of laws in Las Vegas and ordering an alcoholic beverage to go. It was 08:30am. I mentioned this thought to the barman and, within 5 minutes, I was walking out with a gigantic Bloody Mary in my hand. 9am in the streets of Las Vegas. Debauchery. I walked through the Fremont Street Experience arcade, past the casino bars already full of drunks, gambling, and past street performers dancing in some form of drug fading downward trajectory. It all started to feel a bit sad. I got back to the hotel, changed into my swim shorts, and walked to the pool. There was a long queue to get in, but this time I decided to wait. I still had my Bloody Mary and started to chat to people in line about their favourite bands, festival highlights, where they lived, etc. The doors opened and we filed in with no delay. I finished the Bloody Mary and ordered a beer. 10am Las Vegas. Into the pool again and, already drunk, started to play with the beach balls that were all around and talk to people at the pool. A band started to play with a lot of feedback and my ears began to hurt… back to the bar for another strawberry daiquiri. Inspired by my early morning buzz I decided to take a walk to Brewery Row. It was a long walk in the heat and so I took shelter in The Nevada Brewing Company (where I drank so much that I couldn’t eat the food I ordered). I took it to go and walked past a British Pub. I couldn’t believe it. I walked in and ordered a traditional British meal (to go) even though I already had the meal from the previous bar, and I sat in the darkest, coolest bar of the weekend. Sunshine and lights, Las Vegas, and there I was in a dark and cold British pub… it was wonderful. I drank even more. I had to order an Uber to get back, I couldn’t walk.

I awoke from another nap and walked down to the festival for the third and final time. Arriving, I ordered another drink and then watched The Exploited followed by Suicidal Tendencies who performed their self-titled album in full. It was incredible. I left after their set and went back to the hotel. Too excited to sleep, I went down to the ‘Furnace Bar’ in the casino. Using the old European excuse of a ‘digestif’, I ordered a Johnny Walker Black Label. The little bar lady was managing the bar so expertly that I was impressed. She was alone and had a lot of customers and yet she was working at triple speed and getting to everyone rapidly. I told her how impressed I was, and we started chatting whilst she was running back and forth. On the way in, I had noticed a very beautiful lady delivering drinks to gamblers around the casino. As I was laughing with the bar lady, this lady appeared next to me waving her hands in the air and sighing in despair. I asked her what was happening, and she started to tell me that people were complaining and getting angry. I tried to calm her and soothe her. Each time she came back to the bar she began to chat to me. Eventually she took my hand, put it against her face, and then rested her head on my shoulder and thanked me for being so helpful and supportive.

Around 1am I simply couldn’t take any more… I got up to leave. I went to say goodbye to the lady and she said ‘wait’. She put down her tray and pulled out a pen and a notepad. She wrote her name and number and asked me to text her. I ripped off another sheet of paper and tried to write my own name and number. To my surprise, I was too drunk to form the first letter of my own name, ‘M’. On the third attempt I managed it and gave her my details.

I got into bed and sent her a text… she responded three days later when I was already back home.