Jack21
Guest
This TR is based on actual facts of the Vegas trip enjoyed by Jack21. Some of the names have been changed to protect the not so innocent. Any similarities with real people or events are probably right on the money. Embellishments may or may not be present. (Rated: MA for mature themes, mild violence, sexual innuendo, profanity, alcohol use, gluttonous behavior)
Postcards from the Desert
"What happened to your navel ring?"
"It was stolen when I fell asleep in the holding cell."
Pre-Arrival Highlights
I make my way thru the Dulles Airport security line, where a very stern and serious looking graying security agent stops me on the far side of the metal detector. “Boarding pass, please,†he scowls as I hand it over. Staring, staring, then his eyes change to glee as he exclaims, “You’re going for the Madness!†To which I reply, why yes, yes I am.…after which he wishes me good luck and I pass with no further interference.
Sitting at the gate, 100 pages into Absolutely Fifth Street (And realizing how screwed up the Binion family really was) our flight attendants arrive--all wearing electric green wigs for the St. Paddy’s eve flight.
Boarded at my window seat for my 9:15pm flight and the plane fills with hot-blooded American males, mostly drunk. Our wig-donning crew is leading the crowd with Irish drinking songs. Suddenly there is a tall rather distinguished looking man at the front intercom (I am in row #2) and the crew is hushed. “My name is Kerry Skeen,†he states, the President and CEO of Independence Air, and I just ordered more beer for the flight.†A mass cheer….
Arrival
Fast forward 5 hours….11:25pm local time….just awaking from my Ambien-induced slumber and knowing it will be all the sleep I get for 24 hours; touchdown…lights of the Strip…and there it is, my home for the next four days- Mandalay Bay…mmmmm. Palpitations starting and I haven’t even downed a Starbucks yet. I’ll be by my lonesome for this early part of the trip. I deplane and make my way to the coffee stand, where I bump into Candi, my long-lost third cousin twice removed. We instantly spark up a chat as we head on over to the baggage claim. Turns out she is majoring in the lingual arts from Oral Roberts U. I offer to share my limo to the MB; she heartily accepts. Since I have my only bag as a carry on, and she seems not to have any luggage, we hightail it to the baggage claim area where my limo driver has my name on a sign. Luckily for us he also never switched to a sedan like I had requested when I booked, so we got a stretch at no extra charge (thank you Presidential!). He lets us in back and off we go.
After a mutual exchange of pleasantries the limo pulls up to the MB, and Candi and I part ways. I drop my bag at the bell desk and head right for the player’s club desk to get my card. Then it’s off to BJ. As this is the MB, I sit at the $25 table. Make small talk with some guys who were apparently getting killed at the table when I sat down. I held my own for an hour (during which I saw the drink waitress but a single time) and used a modified Martingale method to bet (sorry Mikey), and walked away up about $250. I decided to hit the Island Bar….
What’s Wrong with that Statement?
Feeling pretty flush I grab a stool at the Island Bar, order my Vodka, and take in a few deep breaths of the Vanilla-tobacco air. Nice place, the Bay. No hoops highlights yet, as it’s only Wed night; but plenty of people watching as one would expect. Well apparently I made the mistake of glancing at this one young lady about 10 feet down from me and smiling. I’m not exactly sure, but I believe in her dialect smiles mean “Come over and buy me a drink.†It was like in the cartoons where there’s like a big gush of wind and then one character who was 100 feet away is right next to the other one a split second later. You guessed it: a pro. I indulged her with her umpteenth apple martini (as it was obvious by her demeanor, slurred speech, and general state of cerebellar dysfunction. She was blond and slim, the kind any heterosexual male would see from behind and be more than interested…until one saw her face-on. She had a mug like a mule in heat, complete with the big schnozola and protruding upper incisors. She’s the kind that in my younger days my crowd would have coined a “pillow-eater†after the most preferred sexual position in which to engage her given her physical assets and flaws. Oh well, she was nice enough for a little amusing dialogue.
I happened to notice her exposed midriff with a hole for a navel piercing, but no ring or jewel there. I inquired as to where her piercing was when she matter-of-factly exclaimed, “It was stolen when I fell asleep in the holding cell.†Hmmm-ok…let’s just stop and think about that response for a second. Based on those eleven words I was able to deduce:
1. She was recently in a holding cell.
2. She was comfortable falling asleep in a holding cell.
3. She slept so soundly in a holding cell some other cellmate was able to commandeer her navel ring.
4. Her calm retort to the question implied it to be a regular occurrence.
Fascinating place, this town I had not visited in three years…
Check-ins and Buffets
Fast- forward another four hours…it’s 6am and I’m leaving a dice pit to make a B-line for the check-in counter. I basically beg for a room and they tell me it’s no problem, I just will get an unmade room at this early hour; I take it. Go up. Flop down. Nap an hour, shower, than it’s down to the SB to make my picks. I run into my pal Tomer and he and I do the MB buffet. I realize that I have not eaten since Washington, DC and I find myself “buffet hungry.†Turns out he buffet is very average; in fact, I found the pancakes dry and the mini-bagels look like they could have come right out of the supermarket freezer. (I did do the Paris Buffet Sat am and found it FAR superior).
I spent the remainder of the morning and afternoon rolling dice, watching hoops, and generally taking it easy. I think I made about $200 at craps, nothing memorable.
T2V Part I
Buddy Dave phones me at 4pm from the golf course telling me he can’t make it to MSS because they’re still on hole #14. Fine. I was there already rolling dice hard and trying to get noticed by the pit bosses. One memorable scene was a crowd of Paddy’s day revelers who took over a table, complete with green attire, big floppy green hats and beads…whenever a good roll hit, they would sing some silly song in unison. The cocktail waitress was unusually attentive, and I think I had about nine vodkas in two hours. Walked away up another $250 or so, made my way to the brewpub, where I met Mikey, Steve B, and others….we sat down and I provided my chip of generosity to the Mikey fund and we ordered. Got to meet Kikky, Rambill, Vegas Jer, Blackjack, Al, PrincePaul, Vegasbound, 3cats, and others……ate, ate, ate, drank. Spent surprisingly little thanks to somebody’s food comp (SteveB??).
Next scene: craps. Already up close to a G on the trip, and the magic of T2V didn’t disappoint. CK hits a few passes, and place bets, Jer does the same, as another..I had bought in for $300 and my stack was growing (gee, Becky, you made it get sooo long). I remember blackjack looking at me confused and asking “Am I doing this right?†I think I said yes. Walked after my roll up about $400.
Time to hit Fremont, land of the leather faced freaks. Me, Mikey, Ross, Al, Neon must have walked across that street about five times to get captured on the webcam for all to see (I’m still not sure I saw me in any of those shots). What the hell, let’s go get some 99-cent shrimp at the golden gate. We waited in line about ½ hour and I get my shrimp initiation. Al, who is longer on wit than judgment, when asked how safe the shrimp are, exclaims, “Well, you’re definitely rolling the dice…. “ Great. First time in Vegas in three years and I’m about to be poisoned…..nahhh.
Head on over to the LVC look around, and say my good-nights to the T2V boys to go build up more comps at the MB…MSS treated me well for the few hours I was there.
Taxi back to MB, head straight for, you guessed it, dice. Over the next two hours I rolled to a draw, maybe slightly down. Avoided the Island Bar and the mule-faced pierceless navel, went to the room and went to bed.
Girlyman Time
Up at 8am, head to the Four Seasons for a workout. I specifically chose the Four Seasons because they were the only one of the three interconnected hotels to give opposite-sex massages (not transgender massages as I previously mentioned in an old post). Ran 4 miles on the treadmill, light weights and abs. My massage was for 10am. I had a woman named Nicole, a nice 40ish woman who did me very well. Very relaxing. Left the four seasons feeling reinvigorated (and sober).
THEHotel
By this time I was ready to check into THEHotel. The check-in clerks were very receptive. I had previously mentioned I wanted a higher-up strip view…Jenn at the desk was saying how difficult making that happen was...until I slipped her a $20. Suddenly the room I requested magically appeared. Imagine that, even at THEHotel, the $20 trick works…
The Suite was a front room with sofa, chairs, bar, desk, small bathroom and plasma-screen TV. The bedroom was two queen beds and nice bigger bathroom. The view was breathtaking. But no time for room-lounging. Time to meet my old college friends out by the MB pool. We ate poolside, but the weather wasn’t so good, so we hit craps HARD. After a choppy first 30 minutes, Steve had the mother of all craps rolls. I was maxing odds on a $15 table and he hit six pass lines and a few comes. I left up another $1000 or so. Was starting to feel invincible…which was to be my downfall. But more on that later…
T2V Part II
Over to the Rio with Steve and Eddie in tow. Turns out the Voodoo lounge was rented for a private party but the Voodoo Café, on the level below, was open. We sat at the bar figuring people would make the switch, and had hurricanes and commie shots. Bill, who I ran into earlier, came up and got us for the rendezvous at the Mexican joint, where I ran right into the T2V gang, including Beach Crazy who got a big hug (To which she responded “Are you trying to feel me up?†Interesting icebreaker indeed). It wasn’t 5 minutes before she had her bra off and was ready for our bet. My Jack-on-the-rocks went in the left cup, into me, and all over my neck, her lap, and the floor. (Talk about whiskey porn…) Wore her bra like bunny ears until Bill relieved me of the honor. More drinking, watched Vermont beat Syracuse at the buzzer (hooray Becky!). Talked a bit with Angy’s Cyn, who could have doubled for a New York fashion model.
An hour later my core group is sitting at Fiore when in walks Mikey, Eddie, Angy/Cyn, Ross, Al. I send the table a nice Oregon Pinot, which Mikey tells me later, they like so much, they ordered another one. All the food was fabulous. Went back to the T2V table to say a nice good-bye and gave/got a very nice smooch from Angy (To which I think I heard Cyn respond “Oh my God.â€)
The Olive Garden
Having been spanked at the tables all morning and afternoon Saturday, Steve, Eddie and I decided to hit the Olive Garden (“When you’re there, you’re familyâ€) We heard the fish was fresh and the coffee was a nice grind. Taxi’d over and found it not too crowded for 4pm. I was amazed at the service. Everything was served with a smile, and with an overtly customer-oriented one-on-one style I had not experienced with similar institutions. I was actually surprised how fast everything came. Very tasty indeed. At one point I glanced up to a TV to see Nevada had failed to cover the spread by ½ a point, and at that moment couldn’t have cared less…
MIXX/Charlie Palmer’s
After the OG we went to MIXX for a drink. Very art deco, but he views were breathtaking, rivaling Voodoo. I was introduced to a drink called a “rock star†which is Red Bull and Grey Goose. While good, I refuse to call it by its original name in defiance of the MTV trust fund baby crowd that probably named it.
Charlie Palmer’s for dinner. A1 service, A1 food, but over priced. Briefly, we ran up a $900 tab between the five of us, including two bottles of wine. We ordered a shelled 2-pound lobster for the center of the table and were charged $95…a real rip off. By this time I’m beat but I had taken a prison-shower-ass-pounding at the tables that day and was determined to win back some of my $$$. It was like all the luck was used up the first 24 hours in Vegas, and now all I rolled were seven-outs and all I was dealt was 16’s. By Sat night I had given back all of the 3G’s or so I was up.
Went to $25 craps and rolled for two hours only down $180. A minor victory. Bed.
Craps Virgin Typh and Epilogue
Skipping forward to the BC meet up. Found the crowd well settled by the bar, Angy and Cyn had the Captain and diets firmly in their grasps. Heard all about the previous evening’s romps; pics were taken. Somebody handed me a watermelon something. Flight in 6 hours, damn…but what the hell. Today was my day of virgin dice rollers. Not four hours earlier while waiting on my buds after the MB beach pool (where we were able to lay out and get some nice sun), I stumbled onto a dice pit where some guy shouted :
â€VIRGIN ROLLERâ€
I immediately bought in. As expected, virgins make you. She hit five pass bets and all my place bets several times over, and I walked away up $850.
Back to the BC. Typh walks in and makes the social rounds. A real sweetheart, that Typh. I convince her to try some dice with me. We walk up to a table and of course she’s the only shot of estrogen there. I buy in for $300 and she does for $100, but the dice are three rollers away from us. By the time she gets her cute little hands on them, I am down to $75 and she has a mere $25. No worries, mate. She lets loose….7,7, 9…I place the 6 and 8, and instruct her on her backup bets…..6,8,8,9. Yummy, Typh….keep it up. She really pours it on, and unlike the usual timid newbie, is roaring at the mouth (taking prompts from me on what number to scream) She must have hit like four more place bets, two more passes and a come or two before the seven came out. I went from $75 to $550 and she from $25 to $115. Not bad, girl, not bad indeed.
Sadly, I said my goodbye’s to the gang (Including Bosco, who was full of laughs) and decided to stroll from the BC back to the MB. Caught Bellagio just as the fountain show was starting (to the tune of “This Song†by Elton John). topped in a souvenir shop and got a “Vegas sign†pillow for my head on the plane. Peeked into NYNY, took the tram from Excalibur to MB. Got comp'd for the two THEHotel nights by the casino host for my play. Did a goodbye walk thru the joint, back to THEHotel, got in a cab, and went to the airport….
Jack21
[ March 23, 2005, 02:36 PM: Message edited by: Jack21 ]
Postcards from the Desert
"What happened to your navel ring?"
"It was stolen when I fell asleep in the holding cell."
Pre-Arrival Highlights
I make my way thru the Dulles Airport security line, where a very stern and serious looking graying security agent stops me on the far side of the metal detector. “Boarding pass, please,†he scowls as I hand it over. Staring, staring, then his eyes change to glee as he exclaims, “You’re going for the Madness!†To which I reply, why yes, yes I am.…after which he wishes me good luck and I pass with no further interference.
Sitting at the gate, 100 pages into Absolutely Fifth Street (And realizing how screwed up the Binion family really was) our flight attendants arrive--all wearing electric green wigs for the St. Paddy’s eve flight.
Boarded at my window seat for my 9:15pm flight and the plane fills with hot-blooded American males, mostly drunk. Our wig-donning crew is leading the crowd with Irish drinking songs. Suddenly there is a tall rather distinguished looking man at the front intercom (I am in row #2) and the crew is hushed. “My name is Kerry Skeen,†he states, the President and CEO of Independence Air, and I just ordered more beer for the flight.†A mass cheer….
Arrival
Fast forward 5 hours….11:25pm local time….just awaking from my Ambien-induced slumber and knowing it will be all the sleep I get for 24 hours; touchdown…lights of the Strip…and there it is, my home for the next four days- Mandalay Bay…mmmmm. Palpitations starting and I haven’t even downed a Starbucks yet. I’ll be by my lonesome for this early part of the trip. I deplane and make my way to the coffee stand, where I bump into Candi, my long-lost third cousin twice removed. We instantly spark up a chat as we head on over to the baggage claim. Turns out she is majoring in the lingual arts from Oral Roberts U. I offer to share my limo to the MB; she heartily accepts. Since I have my only bag as a carry on, and she seems not to have any luggage, we hightail it to the baggage claim area where my limo driver has my name on a sign. Luckily for us he also never switched to a sedan like I had requested when I booked, so we got a stretch at no extra charge (thank you Presidential!). He lets us in back and off we go.
After a mutual exchange of pleasantries the limo pulls up to the MB, and Candi and I part ways. I drop my bag at the bell desk and head right for the player’s club desk to get my card. Then it’s off to BJ. As this is the MB, I sit at the $25 table. Make small talk with some guys who were apparently getting killed at the table when I sat down. I held my own for an hour (during which I saw the drink waitress but a single time) and used a modified Martingale method to bet (sorry Mikey), and walked away up about $250. I decided to hit the Island Bar….
What’s Wrong with that Statement?
Feeling pretty flush I grab a stool at the Island Bar, order my Vodka, and take in a few deep breaths of the Vanilla-tobacco air. Nice place, the Bay. No hoops highlights yet, as it’s only Wed night; but plenty of people watching as one would expect. Well apparently I made the mistake of glancing at this one young lady about 10 feet down from me and smiling. I’m not exactly sure, but I believe in her dialect smiles mean “Come over and buy me a drink.†It was like in the cartoons where there’s like a big gush of wind and then one character who was 100 feet away is right next to the other one a split second later. You guessed it: a pro. I indulged her with her umpteenth apple martini (as it was obvious by her demeanor, slurred speech, and general state of cerebellar dysfunction. She was blond and slim, the kind any heterosexual male would see from behind and be more than interested…until one saw her face-on. She had a mug like a mule in heat, complete with the big schnozola and protruding upper incisors. She’s the kind that in my younger days my crowd would have coined a “pillow-eater†after the most preferred sexual position in which to engage her given her physical assets and flaws. Oh well, she was nice enough for a little amusing dialogue.
I happened to notice her exposed midriff with a hole for a navel piercing, but no ring or jewel there. I inquired as to where her piercing was when she matter-of-factly exclaimed, “It was stolen when I fell asleep in the holding cell.†Hmmm-ok…let’s just stop and think about that response for a second. Based on those eleven words I was able to deduce:
1. She was recently in a holding cell.
2. She was comfortable falling asleep in a holding cell.
3. She slept so soundly in a holding cell some other cellmate was able to commandeer her navel ring.
4. Her calm retort to the question implied it to be a regular occurrence.
Fascinating place, this town I had not visited in three years…
Check-ins and Buffets
Fast- forward another four hours…it’s 6am and I’m leaving a dice pit to make a B-line for the check-in counter. I basically beg for a room and they tell me it’s no problem, I just will get an unmade room at this early hour; I take it. Go up. Flop down. Nap an hour, shower, than it’s down to the SB to make my picks. I run into my pal Tomer and he and I do the MB buffet. I realize that I have not eaten since Washington, DC and I find myself “buffet hungry.†Turns out he buffet is very average; in fact, I found the pancakes dry and the mini-bagels look like they could have come right out of the supermarket freezer. (I did do the Paris Buffet Sat am and found it FAR superior).
I spent the remainder of the morning and afternoon rolling dice, watching hoops, and generally taking it easy. I think I made about $200 at craps, nothing memorable.
T2V Part I
Buddy Dave phones me at 4pm from the golf course telling me he can’t make it to MSS because they’re still on hole #14. Fine. I was there already rolling dice hard and trying to get noticed by the pit bosses. One memorable scene was a crowd of Paddy’s day revelers who took over a table, complete with green attire, big floppy green hats and beads…whenever a good roll hit, they would sing some silly song in unison. The cocktail waitress was unusually attentive, and I think I had about nine vodkas in two hours. Walked away up another $250 or so, made my way to the brewpub, where I met Mikey, Steve B, and others….we sat down and I provided my chip of generosity to the Mikey fund and we ordered. Got to meet Kikky, Rambill, Vegas Jer, Blackjack, Al, PrincePaul, Vegasbound, 3cats, and others……ate, ate, ate, drank. Spent surprisingly little thanks to somebody’s food comp (SteveB??).
Next scene: craps. Already up close to a G on the trip, and the magic of T2V didn’t disappoint. CK hits a few passes, and place bets, Jer does the same, as another..I had bought in for $300 and my stack was growing (gee, Becky, you made it get sooo long). I remember blackjack looking at me confused and asking “Am I doing this right?†I think I said yes. Walked after my roll up about $400.
Time to hit Fremont, land of the leather faced freaks. Me, Mikey, Ross, Al, Neon must have walked across that street about five times to get captured on the webcam for all to see (I’m still not sure I saw me in any of those shots). What the hell, let’s go get some 99-cent shrimp at the golden gate. We waited in line about ½ hour and I get my shrimp initiation. Al, who is longer on wit than judgment, when asked how safe the shrimp are, exclaims, “Well, you’re definitely rolling the dice…. “ Great. First time in Vegas in three years and I’m about to be poisoned…..nahhh.
Head on over to the LVC look around, and say my good-nights to the T2V boys to go build up more comps at the MB…MSS treated me well for the few hours I was there.
Taxi back to MB, head straight for, you guessed it, dice. Over the next two hours I rolled to a draw, maybe slightly down. Avoided the Island Bar and the mule-faced pierceless navel, went to the room and went to bed.
Girlyman Time
Up at 8am, head to the Four Seasons for a workout. I specifically chose the Four Seasons because they were the only one of the three interconnected hotels to give opposite-sex massages (not transgender massages as I previously mentioned in an old post). Ran 4 miles on the treadmill, light weights and abs. My massage was for 10am. I had a woman named Nicole, a nice 40ish woman who did me very well. Very relaxing. Left the four seasons feeling reinvigorated (and sober).
THEHotel
By this time I was ready to check into THEHotel. The check-in clerks were very receptive. I had previously mentioned I wanted a higher-up strip view…Jenn at the desk was saying how difficult making that happen was...until I slipped her a $20. Suddenly the room I requested magically appeared. Imagine that, even at THEHotel, the $20 trick works…
The Suite was a front room with sofa, chairs, bar, desk, small bathroom and plasma-screen TV. The bedroom was two queen beds and nice bigger bathroom. The view was breathtaking. But no time for room-lounging. Time to meet my old college friends out by the MB pool. We ate poolside, but the weather wasn’t so good, so we hit craps HARD. After a choppy first 30 minutes, Steve had the mother of all craps rolls. I was maxing odds on a $15 table and he hit six pass lines and a few comes. I left up another $1000 or so. Was starting to feel invincible…which was to be my downfall. But more on that later…
T2V Part II
Over to the Rio with Steve and Eddie in tow. Turns out the Voodoo lounge was rented for a private party but the Voodoo Café, on the level below, was open. We sat at the bar figuring people would make the switch, and had hurricanes and commie shots. Bill, who I ran into earlier, came up and got us for the rendezvous at the Mexican joint, where I ran right into the T2V gang, including Beach Crazy who got a big hug (To which she responded “Are you trying to feel me up?†Interesting icebreaker indeed). It wasn’t 5 minutes before she had her bra off and was ready for our bet. My Jack-on-the-rocks went in the left cup, into me, and all over my neck, her lap, and the floor. (Talk about whiskey porn…) Wore her bra like bunny ears until Bill relieved me of the honor. More drinking, watched Vermont beat Syracuse at the buzzer (hooray Becky!). Talked a bit with Angy’s Cyn, who could have doubled for a New York fashion model.
An hour later my core group is sitting at Fiore when in walks Mikey, Eddie, Angy/Cyn, Ross, Al. I send the table a nice Oregon Pinot, which Mikey tells me later, they like so much, they ordered another one. All the food was fabulous. Went back to the T2V table to say a nice good-bye and gave/got a very nice smooch from Angy (To which I think I heard Cyn respond “Oh my God.â€)
The Olive Garden
Having been spanked at the tables all morning and afternoon Saturday, Steve, Eddie and I decided to hit the Olive Garden (“When you’re there, you’re familyâ€) We heard the fish was fresh and the coffee was a nice grind. Taxi’d over and found it not too crowded for 4pm. I was amazed at the service. Everything was served with a smile, and with an overtly customer-oriented one-on-one style I had not experienced with similar institutions. I was actually surprised how fast everything came. Very tasty indeed. At one point I glanced up to a TV to see Nevada had failed to cover the spread by ½ a point, and at that moment couldn’t have cared less…
MIXX/Charlie Palmer’s
After the OG we went to MIXX for a drink. Very art deco, but he views were breathtaking, rivaling Voodoo. I was introduced to a drink called a “rock star†which is Red Bull and Grey Goose. While good, I refuse to call it by its original name in defiance of the MTV trust fund baby crowd that probably named it.
Charlie Palmer’s for dinner. A1 service, A1 food, but over priced. Briefly, we ran up a $900 tab between the five of us, including two bottles of wine. We ordered a shelled 2-pound lobster for the center of the table and were charged $95…a real rip off. By this time I’m beat but I had taken a prison-shower-ass-pounding at the tables that day and was determined to win back some of my $$$. It was like all the luck was used up the first 24 hours in Vegas, and now all I rolled were seven-outs and all I was dealt was 16’s. By Sat night I had given back all of the 3G’s or so I was up.
Went to $25 craps and rolled for two hours only down $180. A minor victory. Bed.
Craps Virgin Typh and Epilogue
Skipping forward to the BC meet up. Found the crowd well settled by the bar, Angy and Cyn had the Captain and diets firmly in their grasps. Heard all about the previous evening’s romps; pics were taken. Somebody handed me a watermelon something. Flight in 6 hours, damn…but what the hell. Today was my day of virgin dice rollers. Not four hours earlier while waiting on my buds after the MB beach pool (where we were able to lay out and get some nice sun), I stumbled onto a dice pit where some guy shouted :
â€VIRGIN ROLLERâ€
I immediately bought in. As expected, virgins make you. She hit five pass bets and all my place bets several times over, and I walked away up $850.
Back to the BC. Typh walks in and makes the social rounds. A real sweetheart, that Typh. I convince her to try some dice with me. We walk up to a table and of course she’s the only shot of estrogen there. I buy in for $300 and she does for $100, but the dice are three rollers away from us. By the time she gets her cute little hands on them, I am down to $75 and she has a mere $25. No worries, mate. She lets loose….7,7, 9…I place the 6 and 8, and instruct her on her backup bets…..6,8,8,9. Yummy, Typh….keep it up. She really pours it on, and unlike the usual timid newbie, is roaring at the mouth (taking prompts from me on what number to scream) She must have hit like four more place bets, two more passes and a come or two before the seven came out. I went from $75 to $550 and she from $25 to $115. Not bad, girl, not bad indeed.
Sadly, I said my goodbye’s to the gang (Including Bosco, who was full of laughs) and decided to stroll from the BC back to the MB. Caught Bellagio just as the fountain show was starting (to the tune of “This Song†by Elton John). topped in a souvenir shop and got a “Vegas sign†pillow for my head on the plane. Peeked into NYNY, took the tram from Excalibur to MB. Got comp'd for the two THEHotel nights by the casino host for my play. Did a goodbye walk thru the joint, back to THEHotel, got in a cab, and went to the airport….
Jack21
[ March 23, 2005, 02:36 PM: Message edited by: Jack21 ]
. Hope you don't have to wait three years for the next visit.
Though, it seems like you made up for lost time. Glad I had the chance to meet you.