Met these guys on the strip last night after they had cycled through Flamingo and gotten chased out by the security guards. One of ’em was on the phone trying to meet up with the rest of the gang to find out the next spot to hit up.
For the Flamingo run, phone guy was the leader and picked the route through the slots on the fly, scattering drink girls and bronzed, pot-belly’d Medicare recipients in his wake. Meanwhile, middle finger dude carried the rearguard, security officials nipping at his heels. Celebration by track-stand up the escalator.
For anyone wishing to join them on their cyclical adventures: these rapscallions can sometimes be found at SF Bike Polo by 21st and S Van Ness (since they got kicked out of Dolores) when they’re not terrorizing Las Vegas casinos. Tryouts next weekend!