"Honey, I'm just goin' out for a drink." In most cities and towns across America this is just a simple statement that you need to just get out of the house, have a drink, smoke some cigarettes, play a little pool and eat some chicken fingers and crawl into bed by 2am. But in Las Vegas, it can mean anything from getting a little sloshed and playing some oldies on the jukebox to losing the goddamn house.

So when I get a call at 5am from Larry, an old "buddy" giving me some sob story about losing the mortgage and getting arrested I just hung up with the obligatory "I'll be there in an hour to bail you out."

Watching the beautiful desert sunset from the window of my Chevy is much more desirable than watching it through a six inch window behind the cells at the Clark County Detention Center (anyone who's spent a few years in Vegas just call it the DC for detention center, a well known landmark here in town.) So I blew off the sunrise and pulled into the parking lot, took the safety off the sidearm and walked the two blocks through the "neighborhood." to the lock-up. The first thing that hits you is the smell when you walk in. A mix between paint and puke and a one-quart flush from a two-gallon toilet. These guys that work here don't even smell it anymore. The outlook on the future in this place is like taking a job as a travel agent for the upcoming winter ski season in Afghanistan.

But I do have to say that walking into a jail when you're not under arrest is just like walking into a hospital when you're not sick, or walking into the unemployment office when you still have a job to pick up an unemployed friend, or being called into your boss's office when you know you're not in trouble. You somehow feel above it all, like they can't touch you this time, but the only difference between you and them is a few inches of cement and steel. When they bring you down from lock-up, even Wayne Newton would look like shit, and Larry was no exception, although only in for a few hours, looked like he did 6 years in Leavenworth.

He walked to the phone next to the window and finally looked up at me when he picked up the receiver. "I swear to you man, I just went out for a drink, and the next thing I know I'm drunk, in a fight and being handcuffed before I knew what the hell was going on."

"Well that's great, so what does the charge for flight from an officer mean?"

"Well I figured if I could make it over the cement wall he wouldn't chase me." Larry added sheepishly "I figured I could outrun him anyway." which is usually the closing line on every episode of COPS.

"So how the hell do you go from going out for a drink to losing your wife and your home and everything?" I had to ask, I had to hear this one.

"Well I walk into the bar (this already sounds like the old "a guy walks into a bar" story), there's only the bar and a pool table and a jukebox and TV set. I figure I'm going to sit at the end of the bar where there are no poker machines, have a couple beers and stay out of trouble then go home. But there were only a few spots and they were taken so I sat at the other end where the tabletop quarter poker machines are. I put my napkin over the poker screen so I wouldn't have to look at it, the beer was $1.25…well…after my second beer I got six quarters sitting next to my bills."

He was somber and still slurring but I knew what was coming next. "So I stuck five of them in the poker machine and it deals me four eights for 125 quarters ($31.25) Now you know me, I never get lucky so I cash out the thirty bucks and give the bartender $5. And I buy a couple drinks for a couple girls."

"What kind of drinks man?" I asked.

"Just a few Kamikaze's, they're harmless right?"

"Yah, a Kamikaze, a poker machine, and a good looking girl, totally harmless in this town. You betcha."(like building a propane plant next to the fireworks stand)

"Well, I had maybe three of them and was ready to leave when one of the girls asked me to dance. So what's the harm right?"

"Yah man, no problem there, three beers, three Kamikaze's, a poker machine, and a married man dancing with a girl at the bar. You betcha."

"Well we have a dance or two and I sit and talk a little with her down by the dollar machines. Well I got a $20 sitting there I just won so I buy a $20 roll of dollars and throw a few in the machine for her, you know, just for kicks, and I hit a full house and a few three-of-a-kinds and now I have $60 and I give the bartender another $5 and he sets me up with a few more Kamikaze's. No harm there right?"

"You betcha man, $60 bucks, 6 Kamikaze's, 6 beers, and a slightly drunk female, no problem there."(Like opening a nitro plant on Fire Island.)

"So now she wants me to give her a ride to another bar down the street so I figure I'll drop her there and go home, but she tells me she won't leave until I buy her a drink. So no big deal, I park and go in and she knows most of the people at the bar so we have a beer and she says "Honey, let's have a couple more Kamikaze's." When I said OK she calls the bartender over and says "Give me a Kamikaze set-up." (With that statement you gotta know this girl's a pro.)

Now the bartender makes a fucking pitcher of Kamikaze's and pours shots for six of us and takes a $20 from my pile and she takes another $5 and gives it to the bartender for a tip, well now I'm buzzin' and she orders another round, gives him another $25 from what was left of the $60 and now she starts flirting with the bartender like they're buddy buddies. I'm sorry man, but I'm getting a little pissed and she puts her arms around me and starts kissing on me and asks me to buy a roll of quarters, well, no harm there but I don't have much money left so I take my ATM card and her and I go to the machine and I push the PIN # and she pushes the $100 button, well I can't take it back now so I get $100 and we go to the bar and she buys $20 in dollars instead of the $10 in quarters, but no big deal there right?"

"Oh no man, no problem there, you left the house at 4pm, it's now midnight, you're stuck a hundred bucks, you're drunk, you got some bimbo on your arm that's probably screwing the six guys in the bar and she's pushing the $100 button instead of the $10 she originally wanted. You betcha man."

"Well she tells me a full house or two will get "us" even and don't worry about it, let's just have another round. Well, an hour later I'm out that $100 and drunker than shit and now she takes my ATM card but I trust her man, so I give her my PIN #, I mean I'm right there so what's she gonna do right? I tell her to get another $100 which I found out later she took $300 of the last $365 I had left in the bank which was going with my paycheck to pay the mortgage on Friday, and she puts $100 on the bar with my card and rips me off for the other $200 which I found out she took when I tried to bail myself out with my ATM card and the screen says "Insufficient Funds." But we're playing the $1machine and we're kissing and hugging and sorry but I'm digging it and the next thing I know the bartender takes my last $20 and tells me I owe him another $20.

But I don't have anymore money so I ask her for the $20 but she says she's broke and picks up her purse like she's pissed off and heads out the door, I get up and follow her out and the bartender comes after me and grabs me by the shoulder so I reel around and belt him, but he's a big guy and I just hit him in the arm and he grabs me by the neck and slams me into the wall and calls the cops, so I did the only thing a grown man would do in my situation, I ran for the door, but the six guys I stuck with the $20 Kamikaze bill weren't too happy so they held me 'till the cops came and when the cops opened the door to walk in…I took my last shot at freedom man."

I had to say it.

"Well let's see, a dozen Kamikaze's, a six pack of Bud, $400 bucks and a Las Vegas slut, you're broke, hung over, sitting in jail under arrest and you're wife just paid for a week at Motel 6. Yah, that all sounds harmless man. You betcha".

So you wanna know what got you into this mess? "Honey, I'm just goin' out for a drink."

-Ken Pearlman