Last week, my parents were out in Las Vegas for a few days (I noticed these trips started about 10 years ago when I moved away to college, and have become more frequent now that my brother is married and living in Omaha as well. But that's neither here nor there). Thursday night, as I was getting ready to go into the Homy Inn for a beer after work, my phone rang and the following conversation took place.
Mother: "I just got my photo taken with Ben Affleck!"
Tom: "Who is this?"
M: "Ben Affleck!"
T: "Wow, Ben Affleck sounds like a woman on the phone. Who knew. He's a better actor than I give him credit for then, holy crap!"
M: "No, its your mother! I just got my photo taken with Ben Affleck!"
T: "Really. You did? Where?"
M: "In Vegas!"
T: "No, Fort Dodge Iowa. Of course in Vegas..."
M: "He was sitting right there playing poker, and I said to your dad 'Take my picture by him!'. I walked right up to his table and leaned in, and he snapped the photo."
T: "Wow, that's pretty cool. Did he look up from his game? What did he say?"
M: "Nothing, he was made out of wax."
And so there I sat, in The Colorado, dumbfounded, smirking, having been punk'd by my own mother. Good lord.
Apparently, there's a Madam Tusseuds in Vegas now at The Venetian. Apparently, Ben Affleck sits at the Celebrity Poker Showdown table, backwards Sox cap, goatee and all. Apparently, the Blue Man Group also have a display. And apparently, I'm an incredible dope for falling for that story hook, line and sinker.