Monday, January 19, 2015

The Last of the Orthotic Insole Wine

Friday January 16, 2015
Aces Ahoy Teaser Picture!
Before I finish the write-up for the day, just so you know, the trip home Saturday was spectacularly uneventful, notwithstanding having to really hustle through customs and down to the D gates at Pearson in order to catch the flight to Flusherville. We got there exactly at boarding time, but in the end, the plane boarded 15 minutes late.

I am pretty sure I do not have planter's flashy asses or whatever that is. I am pretty sure I have sesamoiditis. Google it if you are interested. The wonderful SpencoRX insoles are working, well, wonders. Highly recommended and I doubt I will ever go without them again.

My eyeball continued to get worse.

And at the airport on Saturday, we hiked approximated 4.3 miles to the McCarran medical clinic only to find there is no fucking doctor there on the weekends. They tried to sell me some $15 visine, the little squirts. Their website of course only says they are open seven days a week, and does not say that two of those seven days are fuck you patient days, hope you can get by on visine for your case of green dick flaming spiral death clap.

Which I do not have.

The next day, Sunday, I headed in to the Flusherville Off-Hours Mercy Medical Clinic and Tavern where Doc Jelopey saw me with only about a 45 minute wait. (He had just started an order of wings in the tavern, and wanted to eat them while they were hot.)

Anyway, Doc Jelopey, after thoroughly cleaning his wing-fingers on not one, but two napkins, asserted that I was "suffering from a case of Death Eye."

"Death Eye??!!" I explained. "Jesus, what's that??!"

"Just shittin' ya Royal. You have pink eye. I'll write out a subscription for some drops. Wanna shoot a game?"

I got the drops subscription filled at CostCo, picked up a bunch of groceries, headed home, and dropped the drops. Into my eyeballs.

It's Monday evening and I think they are starting to work. So that's that sorted.

Now that I've front-loaded this will all the wrap-up crap that not all of you come back to read once the trip proper is order, here's the rest of Friday, our final day in Vegas.

---

As mentioned, I spent some downtime enjoying a Macanudo in the sun, sitting on a bench at valet at Main Street Station, pondering my luck, my trip, my life, and eventually listening to Steely Dan to set the mood just right.

 I was really wondering if we were on the right path.
Any chances the Speedway blocks are from Indianapolis?
I like dollar play. I like the comps it brings, and the frustrations that level of play removes - things like not having to worry about reservations, room bills, being able to skip lines, and the very real dollar benefits such as increased cashback, free limo, and high end food, most of which we used to pay out of pocket. I like the freeplay offers some places give for dollar play.

I like winning big. I hate losing big. I'll have to think this over.

As always, I can never solve the Beautiful Puzzle that is Las Vegas. Sometimes I try too hard. Sometimes you just have to get in there and keep stroking.

So that's what I did.

I joined the Quad Queen and slipped, what, my ninth $100 bill of the day into the machine next to her, and ordered a beer. I punched up triple play Bonus Porker quarters, and started to hit a few things.

I got to maybe 575 credits and bumped it up to five-play quarters.

And I started to win. It was a session the likes of which I rarely saw on this trip, and it was a huge relief, not to mention a complete, soaring blast. On down trips sometimes I forget why I gamble. Runs like this are the reason why. I didn't take a lot of pictures, I was too busy winning and getting scratchcards.

Meanwhile, the Quad Queen was dealt 4 to a Royal on ten-play - and didn't hit any. Which was incredibly sad and disgusting.

What is even more sad and disgusting is... she was dealt 4 to a Royal a SECOND TIME on ten-play. And didn't hit any of them.

One little card off of $10,000 if she'd been dealt a Royal.

They bastarded us good.
My cash-out ticket, and $100 worth of scratch cards.
Her big win was getting not one but two $5 scratch cards.

Unbelievably, I was winning, clawing my way back to close to even on the day by turning $100 into $500. I had had only one winning day all trip. Maybe this one would be a winner too. Sadly, the Quad Queen was losing big-time and badly and would continue to do so all evening.

I played $7000 coin in on the session. The Quad Queen had played $17K at MSS that day. She is a monster, I tells ya.

At 6:00 pm, she was down $1280. I had recovered to where I was only (only!) down $360 on the day.

We took a break in the room and I drank the last of my $70 orthotic insole wine, which had aged nicely, and had a soleful finish.

I loaded up my cyclops eye with about a fucking teaspoon of polysporin ointment, hoping to ward off whatever it was I had, and headed downstairs to smile at the good looking I.S.Gs.

We did some dollar slant-top play and I was thinking, I have to do it tonight. There is no other chance.

And that's when I did something really degenerate and stupid. I can't decide if I should write about it or not.

Should I?

Don't judge me.

Okay, I was dealt 10, J, Q of clubs, a deuce, and the 8 of clubs. You always hate to see a possible smoking hot blonde nympomaniac virgin Royal tainted by the cheap musky perfume of the slutty Straight Flush, who you had a good shot at getting a handjob from.

Longshot Nympho $4000 Virgin Royal? Or possible $250 Slutty Handjob?

I knew the right hold and I dumped the 8, going for the Royal. I don't know why I did it. I knew it was wrong. But I did it.

So, I had 10c, Jc, Qc, 2d, 8c. I held the 10, J, Q.

Where the deuce had been, the 9 of clubs appeared, and some other stiff like a 5 of diamonds or something.

Like 10c, Jc, Qc, 9c, 5d.

Yeah, I felt sick. Boy did I feel sick.

This was not a savvy play, not by a long-shot, and I don't want to hear any more about it. Just read the story and remember, I didn't have to admit to a thing. This is a gift from me to you so you can revel in how stupid that play was and how degenerate and not savvy it was. Remember, my self-deprecation is your entertainment!

I was so pissed off, I cashed the ticket out and went to find Mrs. F so she could talk me down.

I plunked down beside her.

"I think I just threw away $250."

"Huh?"

"I held three to a Royal instead of four to a straight flush."

"That's totally the wrong hold."

"I know. Shit."

I put my ticket in the machine next to hers. And started to play.

And this is when the Gods of Poker shone a little light my way.

They gave me back to back quads on two consecutive hands, right out of the gate.

REPRIEVED!!!!!!

I'd gotten my lost $250 back! I wouldn't have played that machine had I played the straight flush correctly.

I felt marginally less stupid!!!!!! Hell, I even felt lucky, kind of!

Quad Number One, 5026 points
Quad Number Two, 5031 points. It's a dollar a point. Back to back quads. :)
We talked about this some and all I could say was I was so desperate for a Royal I took a longshot even though I knew it was the wrong play, and all we do is based on making the right play.

The Quad Queen talked some sense.

"Video poker has to be played with the correct strategy always, mechanically. It can't be played with your emotions. You can have emotions about what happens, but you can never let that rule how you play the game. Ever."

Lesson learned, and I got my slutty $250 after all.

I was on a really good run, getting close to even on the day, when another gift fell my way. Dealt Aces for $400. Nothing like waiting till the last minute, eh?


We took a break for dinner at the Redwood Grill, where I sullied the podium with one of my cards. I left a few of them around the Cal, I wonder if they got found?

Dinner was superb again. I couldn't help but order the lamb chops a second time, in a tribute to Lucky Goat. (Or was it very lucky at all??)

We had four or five very enjoyable dining experiences at the Grill. The only mis-step was my desert, the creme brulee. They'd done it wrong and I think it got frozen. The waiter took it back and reported that it was the last one. Well actually, that the chef had 86d it because they were made wrong. So good on him for being up front. He brought me berries and whipped cream which I enjoyed just as much.

The trip was all but over now, and I took a flyer on a dollar slot. What a brutal spinning mess that was. I won $10 twice and $4 once and it was all over in about a minute and a half. What is with slot machines these days???

We machine hunted and I found a machine with a flashing button. It seemed to be beckoning me. Because flashing lights are so very rare in Vegas.

"I seem to be getting Aces, I think I'll play Triple Boner Porker Plus," I said. T.B.P.P. pays $1200 for the Aces.

In fact, I'd warned the QQ away from this machine earlier because you'd likely have tax withheld on the Aces win. And I voiced this again.

"You know, if I play this I'll probably get the Aces and have tax taken off just to piss me off."

"Well, good problem to have," QQ replied.

Mrs. Flusher wanted to try the triple play machines right nearby, so we went at it. I put in $100 and the machine was playing great. Before long I hit this:


Wahoo, I was now actually close to having a winning day.

But unbelievably, the best win I had the entire trip, came, again, on the last night, on the last $100 I planned to play.

I held two Aces and the other two popped up. I won $1200, two t-shirts, and a 30% tax withheld bill.

"HEY, I GOT IT!!! I NAILED THE ACES!!!" I shouted.

Man what a great feeling that was. It was still a losing trip, but at least I would finish with some exhileration.



And that was it, that was the last I played at the Cal, save for a bit of Keno the next morning while waiting for the Limo.

 The Keno crowd, proud in their new jeans.
We now know this guy's pant size.
This was a weird trip. I can't say I enjoyed it nearly as much as other trips. But like sex, even when its not that good, Vegas is still pretty damn good. And when it's as good as a Triple 7 foot long hot-dog of impressive girth, it's 'take it to your room' good.

Royal Flusher: Day: +$800 Trip: -$3700
Quad Queen: Day: -$1300 Trip: -$3000

Combined trip: -$6700

Comp spin:

We got $521 cashback from our two stays at the Cal. That's a humping lot of coin in. We ate our faces off to the tune of probably $500 and got free suite for 7 nights ($700) and limo ($140).

Call it $1821 in comps and cash back.

We got $500 free play at the Four Queens, plus $60 cash back and $120 comp dollars for the future, and, at GVR, three nights ($225) plus food ($175) plus Remorse Fees ($90) at Green Valley Ranch plus $291 cash back.

Call it $1461.

Total comps $3282.

Some takeaways from this trip.

  • it really fucking hurts to have a wrecked foot while trying to navigate Vegas
  • it's difficult to blog live in Vegas, doubly so when you have to slave for The Man as well.
  • the quality of the blog suffers when trying to crank it out live. I think readers want that quality and storytelling aspect as much or more than they want the live gambling results. I may not blog live again when I am doing heavy play days all trip long.
  • phone the stupid airport clinic before walking 4.3 miles there on a wrecked foot
  • Tobramycin eyedrops are the shit!
  • I need to practice video poker more. A lot more. I'm rusty, and my head wasn't in the game. Mrs. Flusher practiced a LOT and it showed. She was winning (until I showed up in Vegas).
  • I need to play more table games. I played only one craps session, and no blackjack. Too rushed, too busy trying to win big at VP.
  • I need to rethink my approach to parts of the trip, and have more time where I'm not playing bigger in order to maximize returns. The Four Queens play is great, and the Cal is working out. But some more relaxed days in better properties where we pay casino rate for the room and just cruise might be the ticket.
Thanks to you loyal readers. I appreciate your comments, feedback and support. If you enjoy the blog, tell your degenerate friends, share it on FB, tweet it on twitter, flap it on flapper, email it to Gary Loveman, spread the word to gamblers everywhere!

Until next time,

Your blogging idiot ser-vant,

Royal Flusher O.D.N.S