Here’s some advice: Don’t ever go to Las Vegas during a Mime Convention. Trust me. You won’t have a good time.
Picture yourself at a blackjack table, preparing to double down while the guy at the next chair is signaling “Hit me” by punching himself, then bouncing off imaginary ropes, returning to his chair to give you a white faced “Don’t mind me” smile. The stoic gambler in the fourth chair, who could be Nick the Greek himself, is now so shook up he’s splitting tens.
At the next table a player is strangling a mime, assisted by the dealer. The mime is assuming the “I’m being choked” position… shifting to “choking while trapped in a glass box”, using one hand to push against the imaginary glass. The pit boss lends a hand, stuffing chips down the mime’s throat. Meanwhile a crowd has gathered. In the crowd two terrified mimes are facing each other in an “Oh, no!” stance. faces buried in their hands. then in unison they switch back to a “this is just awful!” expression. A third mime passes the hat.
You’ve had enough. Can’t watch a mime being gang choked any longer, so you leave. Casinos, mimes and luck are not compatible. Make that quick trip to the men’s room, freshen up and shave, but now you find yourself trying to remove shaving cream from your forehead… Surprise! That’s not a mirror you’re looking at. It’s a white face razor-wielding mime mocking you. Leave fast. Take a breakfast break.
You’re in the coffee shop. So far, so good. No mimes peeking over the pancakes. Maybe you can down that doughnut, polish off that sausage and bagel before being overwhelmed by masses of Marcel Marseaus. Order another cup of coffee, but wait, what’s that background music you hear? The SOUNDS of SILENCE?! Time to split but it’s too late! Comes now a substitute waiter carting your coffee. Right, the waiter is a mime… in Art Garfinkle garb, a member of the mime troupe of Sage, Rosemary and Mime.
You panic, make a quick exit, breaking through Sage and Rosemary’s Tug-O-War, running in place as if you’re stuck on a treadmill, mimes on either side staying with you step for step. You glower, you grimace, you sneer. Your mime jogging buddies reflect your every expression. The casino photographer catches you and your mimes in mid-sneer. She chases after you, demanding ten bucks. You start pinching yourself hoping you’ll wake up. The mimes are pinching you also along with the photographer who has enlisted the pit boss in hopes of collecting the ten bucks.
You’ve got only one chance to escape and here it is: While running in place, remove a Ten from your wallet, double back toward the Big Wheel, mimes still at your side, the perky photographer still pinching the fatty part of your back. You place $ 10 on the $ 100 as you run through through the Big Wheel, the mimes impaling themselves on the spikes, stopping the Wheel on your $ 100 spot. Dead mimes are pointing are pointing to your winning selection as you pay Ms. Perky Photographer her $ 10 (from your $ 1000). You give her a $ 10 tip. She becomes nationally known for shooting this chaotic photo entitled “Two Mimes Out for a Spin.”
In the sad, you’re sad. You didn’t mean to maim a mime but what choice did you have? Besides not heeding my initial warning? I know you’re saying a mime is a terrible thing to waste, but cheer up… you won $ 1000.