Thoughts That Go Through Your Head When All Your Friends Are In Vegas Without You

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Thoughts That Go Through Your Head When All Your Friends Are In Vegas Without You

I once made the mistake of declining an invitation to go to Vegas for a weekend of gambling, drinking, and things that I’ve probably never even heard of. I will never decline that invitation again.

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“I feel like Doug from The Hangover. Just so alone while all of his friends are gallivanting across the Vegas Strip trying to pick up the pieces of the awesome time they’re having.”

“Teddy wasn’t serious when he said all he is going to do is drink Miami Vices in Baggies while listening to Napalm, right?”

*Cues up Napalm*

“God, that song is so awesome.”

“Okay, tickets can’t be that much.”

*Searches Kayak*

“$1200 if I leave tomorrow morning and take a redeye that lands on Monday afternoon? That’s actually not that bad.”

“How pissed would my boss be if I just left? Like, is that actually a fireable offense or would he understand?”

“I delete Snapchat, right? All Brady is going to do is snap me selfies from sports books and pools all weekend.”

“Do I just go to the nearest casino and post up for the next two days pretending like I lost all my friends and had a wild solo weekend in Vegas?”

“Maybe I just go off the grid entirely. These texts are devastating me.”

“At least I won’t have Scaries on Sunday.”

“God, I’m going to want Scaries on Sunday so bad.”

“Vegas can’t be that fun. Like, there’s just so many people and it’s football season so every bar will be crazy and things will be out of control.”

“Fuck, that sounds so fucking awesome.”

“I’m going to have such bad survivor’s guilt on Sunday when they’re all flying home hungover and dead while I’m hyper-aware of my surroundings.”

“Do they have any dog rental services? Can I just pretend like I’m adopting a dog at the local humane society and then return it on Monday? Need companionship so bad right now.”

“Are there any girls around I can call and just have a John Mayer ‘Who Says’ weekend with?”

“So this is what Scaries / Death by FOMO feels like.”

“I wonder if tickets are still $1200.”

“How much would I spend once I got there? Everyone would be so psyched that I showed up that they’d just buy me everything all weekend, right?”

“What would Scott Disick do in this situation? Ah, hell. He’s baller as fuck. He would never miss Vegas.”

“Maybe I’ll just have a nice weekend in. Watch some games, get some chores done, maybe work out.”

“Get off your high horse, man. What the hell have you become, you fucking square.”

“Is there anywhere around here I can score some black market Ambien and just sleep through the entire weekend? Do drug dealers even sell Ambien?”

*Checks Snapchat*

“I mean, I know all of their Snapchats are killing me inside but I’m not doing anything to stop them.”

“I wonder if there are any good movies on iTunes. I haven’t seen The Theory of Everything yet.”

“Yup, you’ve officially at the point in your life where you’re trying to replace a weekend in Vegas with a Felicity Jones movie.”

“Stop stress eating, dude. You’re supposed to be living healthy this weekend while they all devastate themselves.”

“Maybe if I don’t look at my phone, no one will text me.”

*Looks at phone*

“How the fuck do I have 37 missed messages from the last 25 minutes?”

“Did they include me in this group chat to torture me or because they genuinely think I’m there?”

“Vegas isn’t worth the money or the hangover.”

“Who am I kidding? Vegas is totally worth the money and the hangover.”

“At least Pete couldn’t go either.”

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