I Kicked Napoleon Dynamite’s Ass in Las Vegas

In 2014 and 2015, my Bride and I took trips to Las Vegas. Back-to-back years. No, it wasn’t because we loved Las Vegas so much that we had to do it two years in a row. It was more of a “Somebody bailed out on our plans, I guess we get to go again, now.” type of thing.

We originally went on our honeymoon in 2014. We had gotten married on April 9th, 2014. Both of us had been married before and we weren’t needing or wanting a big, lavish princess wedding. Though I’d have rocked that dress, I have nice legs. Perhaps after a shave.

None of that pomp and circumstance mattered. We went down to city hall and did our thing, on the day we thought we were ready. It worked out wonderfully and we had some amazingly fun times in Las Vegas. That is a fun city to visit when you’re somewhat new to it.

I had driven through there a couple of times prior to our first trip in 2014 but hadn’t stayed to check it out. Mai was a little more experienced with Vegas, as her kids had lived there for a summer with their dad, and she had come to visit a couple of times. She made for an excellent tour guide.

That first trip we had was the most fun of the two. I don’t even feel as though it was because we were newlyweds. We’ve always had the most comfortable, fun, and drama-free relationship for all of the almost 11 years we’ve been together.

We stayed at a time-share resort that Mai had a connection for and it was sure fun. I got shitfaced off of Bud Light Platinums from about 9 am until noon. That was hilarious. We had decided to take a pool day for the first half of the first day we were there. After buying alcohol at a nearby store, we went and floated the lazy river in the pool area for a bit and laid by the pool in the hot Vegas sun.

It’s not best practice to drink ten Bud Light Platinums in about three hours without eating, in the hot Vegas sun. Toward the end, I was talking to strangers in a friendly Drunkie The Clown kind of way. We heard a song by the Eagles, who I called “The Ingalls” by mistake, and went off on a schpiel about how Little House on the Prairie was such a delightful show back in the day.

Then I stepped on Mai’s flip-flop and broke it, which made me super sad, thinking she’d be mad at me for ruining them. After a quick shower, I passed out for a much-needed 4-hour nap and slept it off. During this lovely nap, she filmed me snoring as loud as a man can snore and posted it on Facebook. I snapped out of it, had a laugh seeing the video on social media, and we went to see the show “Absinthe”. It was incredible.

We saw another couple of shows and enjoyed the buffets, the shopping, and taking pictures in various other Vegas locations. It was a really fun trip and I figured that perhaps I’d return again someday to see more of it.

I didn’t anticipate our return to Vegas coming so quickly in 2015. I was working with a mortgage lender at the time who was going to celebrate her 40th birthday in September 2015. She mentioned wanting to go to Vegas to celebrate it and party like a rock star. Ok, Vegas Trip, Part II.

We booked our rooms for the planned trip right after she invited us to go, some six months ahead of time. She invited a number of other people and friends, and we did as well. A few other people agreed to go and we were set to make our return trip to Sin City a memorable one with friends.

This was not how it worked out. The birthday girl bowed out shortly before the trip in September. She had bought a new home and said that between closing on it and furnishing it, she couldn’t really afford to go on the trip. Nobody else booked their trip early like we did, so then nobody felt like going if the main person wasn’t even going.

Nice. We could have spent our money on a different trip, being we’d just been to Vegas the year prior. Such is life. We decided to make the best of it and just take a long weekend trip for ourselves again. We had fun last time and I knew we’d do it again. I can go anywhere with my best friend and have a great time.

We stayed at Excalibur which was fun and the dinner show was awesome. We watched people jousting with horses while we ate a cornish hen dinner with our bare hands. It was a fun trip back in time. We also caught a Cirque Du Soleil show called “Ka”, which was impressive and amazing.

Toward the end of the trip though, we were ready to go home. Vegas in two consecutive years had been enough and we were looking forward to the flight home and planning the next adventure that would not be located in Nevada any time soon. It was time to check out of the hotel and get the rental car turned back in.

Enter the combatants. At this point, our antagonist appears in the story. Napoleon Dynamite was the Hertz employee assigned to check our rental car back in. I didn’t foresee an issue with this until it became one.

No, Jon Heder was not working for Hertz. His career had not slipped this badly since Napoleon Dynamite, Blades of Glory, or even School For Scoundrels. But this dude looked JUST like him. About the same height, build, and that curly-haired haircut. I did a double-take when he first walked up to us.

He wasn’t that friendly. This is something I’ve noticed about a good portion of people working in Vegas. They don’t seem to be enjoying life in the desert. It’s hot there, I get it. Blazingly hot at times. Still, I feel you should exhibit SOME level of professionalism.

Napoleon looked at the car inside and out, checking things off from his little checklist. At some point, he mentioned having to charge us for gas or something related to that. Mai had chosen some option where we shouldn’t have had to deal with that, their price per gallon to refill it was exorbitant. Yet he didn’t seem to have that in his notes.

She told him that she had chosen that option, and it had to be a mistake. He argued back that it wasn’t in his notes that she’d paid for that option. She assured him that she had. He mentioned that it wasn’t checked and there was nothing he could do about it.

Mai, “There’s no way. This is BULLSHIT.” She said this in a firm, exasperated tone, but didn’t yell or even raise her voice much. I was standing off to the side of the car, carefully observing their escalating back and forth.

Napoleon had been sitting in the passenger seat with the door open, making notes. He suddenly jumped out of the car and slammed his hand on the roof of it. He muttered something to himself that I didn’t quite catch, but all I heard in my head was “Fucking bitch”.

That was it. “ROUND ONE, FIGHT!” Like a bull seeing the red cape dangled by the bullfighter, it was time to charge. I bum-rushed him and immediately was nose-to-nose in his face.

“WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY TO MY WIFE?” I yelled, ready to put all of those hours spent watching Rocky to good use if he would have hit me or shoved me first.

To his credit, much unlike the actual Napoleon Dynamite, he stood his ground and didn’t cower. He stayed in my face and snarled, “Yeah, well she cussed me out first!”

I said, “She said that this is bullshit! As in the situation! She didn’t curse you out. Watch your fucking mouth!”

“What are you going to do about it?” He said, still an inch from my face.”

What am I going to do about it, I thought? Deck his ass and go to jail? No. I took a half step back and then quickly lunged toward him with my face, in an attempt to make him flinch like a little bitch. Sadly, I didn’t factor in the length of my large nose.

I nose-booped him. With my nose. I barely made contact, yet I technically assaulted him. He freaked out like I had just tried to shank him or something. He ran off like a coward. I thought to myself, “Damn, am I going to jail for nose-booping Napoleon Dynamite? Is he running off to call the cops? At least it will make a hell of a story.”

I told Mai that we had probably better go on the offensive and immediately complain about Napoleon and tell his boss that he got aggressive, hit the rental car with his hand, and got in my face. That he was so close, his nose ran into my nose. That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.

Fortunately, the office people were sympathetic to our dilemma. Mai had in fact paid for whatever the hell option she had chosen that had gotten me into this whole nose-jousting debacle. When I described Napoleon as looking like Napoleon Dynamite, the lady we were telling all of this to seemed to acknowledge that she wasn’t surprised.

Perhaps he had tendencies of being confrontational toward other tourists. Maybe he’d had enough of getting the wrong information from his bosses as it related to rental car options. Maybe he was upset because Tricia ditched him at the homecoming dance, or his liger ran off. Not knowing.

I breathed a little easier as we boarded our plane back to Idaho. They say what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. If that was an assault warrant for me, I was all for it staying there. Stallone didn’t have as big of a nose as I do in the Rocky series. He won with his fists and I won with my Italian beak. &:^)