In case you didn’t know; the throw back Chris Mullin jersey has been a staple in my vacation wardrobe since 2004. Chris Mullin is a living legend. He was able to drain clutch three pointers on demand, play on the Dream Team when it actually mattered, and be the only white guy in the NBA to rock a flat-top fade.
Not only am I reppin’ NY hard when I break the jersey out on vaycay; but I enter a binge-mode much like Chris did in college at St. Johns. I have a number of reasons I’ve made the Mullin jersey part of my vacation steeze.
While at Tryst nightclub at the Wynn, my buddies and I started chatting with two chicks from Denver. Somewhere after our third shot and finding out that they were cousins, (weird!) they had a hot make-out session with a female bartender before leaving the club with us.
We invited them to our room at the Venetian Resort & Casino to chill post-party. We hit the food court for breakfast (take-out) before going back up to the room. While taking the food out of the bag, the smell of scrambled eggs quickly took over the room and I lost my appetite while everyone else ate.
Picture this: Three guys and two filthy-dirty cousins on ecstasy in a Las Vegas hotel room after a night of partying. Soon enough there was some heavy petting going on, (boner patrol!) so I figured I’d have some fun with the Mullin Jersey to honor the Redman from Queens.
Getting this chick to put her clothes back on (Mullin Jersey) took more effort than we expected. She ended up being a good sport and we had some fun taking the pictures. We got down to business and I asked her how she felt about threesomes, and she replied: “Well, I guess that’ll make up for last night.”
To make a short story even shorter, I finished earlier than I expected. (By hand!) I left my buddy in the same bed with the Mullin jersey chick as she rode him like a Bronco reppin’ Denver!
I looked over and saw that my other friend was two fingers deep inside her cousin. At this moment, sticking around in that hotel room would have been a creepster move. I needed to find something to occupy the next 60-90 minutes till the “Cousins McMullen” hit the road.
I picked up the Chris Mullin jersey from off the floor, put it on, and went down to the casino. I was sitting at a twenty-five cent video poker machine and drinking bud lights alone at 7:15 AM while craving a NY bagel smothered with cream cheese.
Additionally, I couldn’t help myself from continuing to smell the chicks perfume around the neck of the jersey. In a strange way it kind of turned me on as I thought about going back to the room for Round 2.
This was the defining “Vegas Moment” of the trip when I realized that I need to leave the city and head home.
While looking at the pictures on the plane home and using the zoom features on my camera, I noticed a prominent mole on Mullin Chick’s face that I failed to notice the previous night.
To quote Uncle Buck:
“Take this quarter, go downtown, and have a rat gnaw that thing off your face.”
God Bless America. God Bless Chris Mullin. …And God Bless Skanks from Denver!
Tags: chris, chris mullin, chris mullin jersey, clutch, denver, diaries, flat top, flattop, las vegas, living legends, mullin, national basketball association, st john, white guy
