Richard Cheese is a dick

I wrote in a previous story about being in Las Vegas, and seeing Richard Cheese playing a show. It was a pretty damn good show, even though it was almost exactly like his live album. He played all the same songs that he did on the live album. Only the banter was different. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed it very much. It just wasn't different.

Now, here's where it gets tricky.

Richard usually comes out front and gets pictures with his fans after the show. Pretty cool of him, I think. He signed some CDs, talked a little bit with the people, and all that. When it came time for my turn, everything went just as it had for everyone else.... Until picture time.

I put my hand on his back. Just a place to put it, I wasn't trying to molest him or anything.

"Don't touch me." he says.

I laugh it off a little bit, but put my hand back on his back.

"I said, don't fucking touch me." He doesn't sound angry at all, but he does have a certain look of disdain in his eyes.

So, I put my arm down, we get a couple pictures, then go on our way. We walked a few paces away, and I watched him take pictures with other people for the next 5 minutes or so. Every time there was a hot woman, he would put his arm around her, or let her fawn all over him. However, if there was a guy, he would make sure there was plenty of space between them. Either he's homophobic to an extreme I haven't seen before, or he's just a dick.

A couple months later, he comes to Seattle. I go with a few friends of mine, and we have a great time. When we walk in, his manager is at the front table selling t-shirts and CDs and such. She recognizes me and says, "Hey! What are you doing here? Weren't you in Vegas?"

"Yeah! I live here. I came to this show, too, because it's a friends bachelor party."

We exchange some more pleasantries, I give her my number, and we enjoy the show. Two of my friends are constantly talking and making comments during the show. So much so, that Richard notices, and points ME out. He tells the crowd to boo ME because I'm talking. One of the security guards comes over, and chastises me for it. I explain that it wasn't me, but my two asshole friends. (Who are still making comments, by the way). The security guard reminds me not to make comments, or I will be escorted out.

I don't say anything else during the show. And we have a pretty good time.

Afterward, we get pictures with Richard again.

I'm wearing the same suit as I was in Vegas, and he recognizes me. I don't touch him at all this time, and we get a picture. He then turns to me, and says, "Don't yell shit during my show." I try to explain that it was my idiot friends, but he wouldn't listen, and just walked off.

I went down to the "Green Room", which is the bar inside Showbox Market, where the concert was. I end up having some drinks with the piano player, Bobby, and the drummer, Frank. I even get them to sign a girl. Frank got the front, Bobby got the back. They were cool as shit.

Richard Cheese is a dick.

Dangerous intersection

I was in a pretty nasty car wreck when I was 17.

At the time, I thought I was a pretty good driver. And, to be honest, I was.

I had only had my license for about 6 months, but I had been driving various vehicles since I was 5. This particular day, I had stayed after school for Track Team practice. After it was all done, I went to my car, and headed home.

Instead of taking my usual route home, I decided to explore a little. I had a cassette tape of Metallica blaring on my radio, and it was a very nice spring day. I pulled up to the intersection of Ahtanum Road and Marks road. it was about 2 miles from my home. The part of the road I was on, was a gravel back-road, that didn't get used a lot, and had a pretty steep grade downward.

Ahtanum Road sloped down hill from right to left. Off to the right, was a blind corner about 150 yards away from me. To my left, it stretched on for at least a quarter mile. Marks road, in front of me, gently sloped downward for the next mile. Ahtanum Road didn't have a stop sign, but Marks Road did. So, I stopped.

When I pulled up to the intersection, I did as I was trained. I looked both ways. Twice. Coming from my left, I noticed my neighbor pulling up to the intersection. They slowed down, and waved to me. Part of me must have thought that they were being really nice and waving me through, because I started through the intersection.

Three quarters of the way through the intersection, I glanced to my right.

The grill and bumper of a Ford Aerostar Minivan was about 4 feet from my door.

Everything went into slow motion.

I turned toward the steering wheel, and screamed. That scream was cut off by my car getting hit at 65 miles per hour by the minivan. Everything went black.

When I came to, Metallica was still playing, and I couldn't breathe. So, I unbuckled my seat belt as quickly as I could manage, and flopped onto the pavement, trying to get some air. My neighbor came over and checked on me. She thought I had been thrown from the car.

So, here's what happened from an objective viewpoint.

My neighbor had slowed down because she was turning onto the same road that I was on, and was waiting for the minivan to pass her, before she turned left. The minivan was speeding down the hill, and didn't see me until I was almost through the intersection. When we collided, we traveled about 50 feet. We ended up about 8 feet from a drop off to a field 20 feet below. My passenger seat was stuck underneath my seat, and my car was completely totaled. I had slammed into the steering wheel somehow, and that's why I couldn't breathe.

The woman driving the van worked at my High School. She was an assistant teacher for the Special Ed class, and was a very nice lady. She also had her 8 year old son in the van with her. He was not injured at all. In fact, he was more worried about his Game Boy than he was about anything else.

I spoke to the Sheriff, filled out some forms, got in my dad's car, and went home. They towed the wreck behind us, and dropped it off in our field. I used to think that I was going to tear that car apart someday, just for fun. I never got around to it, though.

That winter, I was coming up the opposite way on Marks Road, and there was snow on the ground. I thought I was driving carefully. I didn't speed. If I had to slow down, I pumped the brakes. I didn't over-correct.

Unfortunately, there was ice underneath the snow, and I couldn't stop. I looked to my left, and saw a car going way too fast from around that blind corner. The first thing I thought was, "Great. Now I get it from the other side. This is going to kill me."

I knew that I wouldn't have enough time to stop without getting hit. So, I did the only thing I could think of.

I stepped on the gas.

I managed to get up enough speed to pass in front of the other car, and not get hit.

They must have missed me by less than 3 feet.

After that, I never drove around that intersection again. I always took other routes. It was safer.

Shooting Craps in Vegas

I've been to Las Vegas a few times, and I love that town. Just the way things are handled there seem pretty cool. to me. I once walked from the Stratosphere Hotel halfway down the strip all the way to Binions on the north end of the strip. The whole way, I had a glass of whiskey in my hand and I was alone. I didn't get molested or fucked with at all, amazingly enough. I've heard stories of people getting mugged if they stray too far from the casinos.

On one trip, I was staying at the Imperial Palace, and after 2 days, I was down $800. I had gotten VERY drunk the night before, and went to bed around 5:30 am. I woke up at 8:30 am, completely sober and awake. I still don't know how that happened.

I decided that I was hungry, and went downstairs to the casino next door to get some breakfast. I still had about $100 left, and decided that if I lost that money, I wouldn't gamble any more. On my way to breakfast, I noticed my friend's dad, Gene, playing Craps. I had never played craps before, and neither had he. One of the dealers was giving him pointers, so I joined him.

After a little while, we were both up a little money, and were doing pretty well. People started gathering around the table, and joining in on the fun. My stack of chips started growing. Then, we got on a cold streak, and I was down to my original $100. I told Gene that if I lost that, I was done.

Then, we got on a heater.

There were 16 people playing on the table, and we were all winning. Normally, a player rolls for very little time. 10 minutes is usually a nice run for people to make money on. That's because it's pretty easy to "crap out" by rolling a 7 before hitting your point.

If you don't know what I'm talking about, look up the rules.

Gene rolled for almost an hour. He kept hitting point after point. Everyone on the table was winning. We won so much, that they had to refill all the chips. If you've ever passed by a craps table, you see a lot of chips by the boss. They almost ran out.

In 4 hours of shooting craps, I went from $100, to $1200. We had a great time, and made a bunch of money.

Another time I was down there with a couple friends of mine, Maureen and Jeremy. Maureen decided that they were going to take me to a concert as a surprise. They took me to see Richard Cheese. I'll tell ya, that guy can put on a show! He's an asshole in person, but that's another story.

We go to the show about an hour and a half early, and they wanted to look around. I, on the other hand, went straight to a craps table. In an hour, I turned $100 to $500. There were about 10 people on the table, and nobody would roll except for me and the guy on the other end of the table. We kept rolling, and people kept making money off of us. It was glorious.