Just returned from a very pleasant eight days in Lost Wages, sorry, I mean Las Vegas! I was on a trip there with John ‘Joe’ Kirby, my son-in-law Steve and his mate Davey. Now they say, ‘What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas’ but I thought I would share this little tale with you all!

We’d had a cracking night in Coyote Ugly bar (I know it sounds apt!) in ‘New York New York’ and then went downstairs to a bar called ‘Nine Fine Irishmen’ where there was a fine pint of Guinness to be had and also, there was a live band on.

We were stood by the exit enjoying the atmosphere when Steve started raking through the bin. “What on earth are you up to?” I enquired, feeling somewhat embarrassed. Steve explained that there had been what he called ‘Suits’ leaving the bar from a back room and on their way out, discarding ‘name badges’ into the bin. “These could come in useful!” says Steve with a grin.

Now you have to understand my son-in-law… Steve would go to the opening of an envelope if he thought he was getting something for nothing and he’s got more ‘balls’ than a Christmas tree!

Anyway, Steve disappeared for a couple of minuets and on his return started digging in the bin for a few more name badges. “Put these on and follow me!” says Steve, “I know where we can all get some free booze!”

To say I was a bit apprehensive is an understatement, not just because we were gate crashing an estate agent’s convention, of which we know ‘jack sh*t’, but the fact that the two doorman were the size of a small battle cruiser didn’t help!

However, everyone else was donning the badges so, in for a penny as they say, I joined in. We were heading for the back room when I thought it might be prudent to check what we were all SUPPOSED to be called and THANK GOD I did!

I was Scott Douglas, Steve was Chuck someone or other and Davey first name was Mike. Then it hit us, Joe’s name badge read TERESA SLATER!! Not even the most stupid of doormen was going to let a bloke in with a girls name so Davey was dispatched back to the bin and returned with one reading ‘Ken’.

As we approached the door, giant haystacks and his mate started laughing and I immediately thought that the game was up. Suddenly, they stopped laughing, straitened themselves up, wished us a good evening and opened the door for us. WE WERE IN!

The ‘room’ turned out to be an outside terraced area. Men and ladies - dressed to the nines - were milling around talking to each other about the falling Dollar and how much they’d made that day on the ‘future’s’ market. One group were even chatting about investing their ‘billions’ on building a new hotel on ‘The Strip’!

The ‘poor people’ who were walking past ‘New York New York were looking in at us all and pointing; obviously seeing four blokes in jeans and T-Shirts in amongst this crowd of Las Vegas’ finest meant that we were the ‘richest’ of them all. If they only knew!

Steve went up to the bar, - we were too scared - had a conversation with the barmaid and returned with four large Jack Daniels, ALL FOR FREE! Joe and I just looked at each other, we couldn’t believe it.

This went on for a couple of hours, - Joe even chatting to passers by telling them he would love to invite them in but it was just for ‘CONVENTION’ guests.

Then the inevitable happened… the barmaid ‘sussed’ us.

“Are you guys supposed to be in here?” she asked sternly. “Oh aye!” says Steve as cool as you like, “Here’s our invite!” HE SLIPS HER $40. “Oh yea,” she says. “Sorry about that!” and proceeds to pour us another round. UNBELIEVABLE!

As the night drew to a close, the poor barmaid dropped a full case of Budweiser. Quick as a flash, Davey and Steve were over to her, helping to pick up the bottles; very chivalrous!

As we were getting onto the monorail to return to our hotel, Davey and Steve magically produced four bottles of ‘Bud’ from their back pockets. “Well!” says Steve, “I know it’s unconventional but they were free!”

The Cockfield blogs will return later this week.