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| - I went here about a year ago..but I have a sneaking suspicion it hasn't changed radically from that vantage point!
I had read about DDS on the Bust website of where the real Las Vegas regulars go. I was tired of the large chairs at buffets, the luxury chains at Paris, the ching-CHING of casinos, I blacked out in the middle of the showgirl revue at Baileys due to too much glitter and glam, I did the carousel bar (via Hunter S. Thompson fame) at Circus Circus and devoured a deep fried twinkie in the old strip-what next?
I asked the valet at my fancy schmancy hotel to fetch a cab for my lady friend and I. Always polite and formal, he asked when one arrived my desitination. I answered, "Double Down Saloon, please." He backed up, laughed loudly and smacked his palms together. "Oh SHIT. Double Down, huh? DAMN. You girls like to party?!? All RIGHT. Haha-have fun you naughty girls!" Oh...WTF had I gotten us into???
We arrived to Harleys all parked in a row outside-shit. Should we bother going inside? We had to. Its part of the adventure, right? Well, once inside the small bar, I felt right at home. There was a cute alterna-punk two person band givin it their all in the corner of the venue and there were STILL slot machines here (godamit). We had cheap strong drinks, enjoyed the chaos and I noted the throw up insurance. It went something like if you gave them money ahead of time, they would clean up your vomit-if not, they gave you a bucked and a mop and you had to clean yo OWN shit up.
I do not recall the ass juice-but that doesnt mean I didnt consume it since I was pretty shitfaced by the time I left. I had a great time with the locals and was glad I didnt have to worry about vomit insurance when I left.
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