Thursday, September 25, 2014

Swing Three Chariots Low





Day 4 Sunday July 20th

You realize you are waking up. You stretch carefully, trying to avoid a screaming bloody murder calf spasm. You think about going back to sleep. Your eyes are not open yet. You take a deep breath and open your eyes just a bit. You see an unfamiliar room and you suddenly remember. You’re in Vegas!

Now you leap out of bed and take care of whatever needs taking care of. You check your wallet and throw on yesterdays clothes. You want to get started - right fucking now! Make sure you’ve got some bucks, got your phone, players cards, and you are out the door.

Check it to make sure it’s locked with a solid pull. There’s a loud click which echoes down the hallway. You make the long walk to the elevator, passing one person with a quick “‘Morning”. You could sprint because the casino awaits below you. But you don’t.

You press the call button for the elevator five or six times and then look out the window. The clock atop Binions says its 89 degrees out already. It’s not even six AM. The elevator arrives. You get in, next to a couple of folks. A quick ride down, and you look at all the ‘safe’ spots in the elevator - the buttons, the floor indicator, your feet.

You arrive and the doors open. The scent of people, stale smoke, old alcohol, and a million other things that make up the casino rushes over you, as does the cloud of sound. It’s a jumble of noise, mostly machines, some people. And you see a kaleidoscope of bits of colored light. It dazzles.

The day is ahead of you and anything can happen. You pick a machine, look around to maybe signal the cocktail waitress for coffee. Slot card in, make sure it’s read, hundred dollar bill into the machine. The familiar sounds say, “Let’s go bucko, let’s see what you’ve got.” Anything can happen today, anything at all.

That’s what I love about Vegas.

I got started at the California Hotel and Casino, on the end quarter machine facing east, next to the pit, and within a few minutes super server Judy (aka Nurse Blue) swung by with a coffee for me, just the way I like it.

“Did you see that guy on a heater?” she asked.

“Huh? I guess not. What guy?”

“Behind me. At the blackjack table.”

“Don’t move.”

I leaned just enough to see the guy.

“That guy right there?”

“He’s been winning for hours. All night.”

There was a guy sitting about two blackjack tables down, at first base, his broad back toward me.

“Watch my machine,” I said.

I did a little loop, down by the cashier, along the aisle, by the Burning Inflamed Itching 7s machines, then doubled back down through the pit. I took a quick look at the guy. He was a pretty nondescript fellow, looked tired, alone at his table save the dealer. The pit boss stood to her right, watching the game.

Heater Guy had a mountain of black chips in front of him. They weren’t stacked in any way, they were raked. If you’d dumped a bucket full of blacks on the felt, and then raked them in with two arms on the table, you’d have what he had. It was an area about two and a half feet across, and kind of oval, about a foot deep in the middle. And the chips were mounded as high as the padded armrest that ringed the table.

I went back to my machine.

“Holy. Shit!”

“I know…” said Judy (aka Nurse Blue).

“I’m trying to figure out how much he has there. It looks like they are all black chips. It’s got to be tens of thousands. Go Heater Guy!!!”

She went on her way and I pondered how many chips Heater Guy had. I could lean a little to the right and get an idea of how he was doing. Sometimes he’d stand up, all of a sudden.

I could see he was betting a couple of spots at a time, with what looked like between a thousand and two thousand a spot. He seemed to be insisting on being paid in blacks.

A stack of chips 20 high might be about as high as this guy’s pile. I guessed by the area of the pile that there might be room for between 50 and a hundred stacks. He most certainly had $100,000 in chips, and maybe as much as double that.

And then I saw the guy stiff the cocktail waitress handling the pit, who had brought him a drink. Unbelievable. In my head, I stopped cheering for him.

Meanwhile, I got involved in my own heavy action - at a buck and a quarter a throw. At some point I changed machines and then went to use the men’s.

I swung by Heater Boy on my way and… his pile had diminished significantly. By more than half.

Heater Boy was now ice cold and by the furrows in his brow, he was going on tilt.

Judy (aka Nurse Blue) brought coffee number two by and we compared notes. He was indeed losing fast.

By the time my session was done, and I strolled by to take a quick reccy, he was down to so few chips that I had no trouble estimating what was left - he had about 7K left. Who knows what he started with? One thing was for sure, he’d lost at least 100 grand since I’d been served my first dishwater.

I wandered over to Main Street and played the triple play there for quite a while. Got only one quad though.


My session wasn’t too great, a losing effort. In fact, it was a super losing effort. But at least I hadn’t lost a hundred large.

In fact, I was down $400 by breakfast. So I opted to eat at the counter at the Market Street Cafe, using yet another of my Aloha! coupon book coupons.

The busboy wiped the counter in front of me and slammed down a coffee.

“Need a menu?”

I smiled confidently.

“No… no menu. I know what to order.”

The waitress came by and as she was about to ask me for me order, she suddenly stopped.

Her face became expressionless. She looked into the endless mirrors on each side of the room, the ones that go on forever, looking about a foot above my head, with a two thousand yard stare.

“What… can I get you.”

“Well,” I said, “how about this. Swing three chariots low... nice and low, now. Drag the knuckles, and add a granny tickler.”

She closed her eyes. She opened them.

“I’m busy here. What do you want?”

“Same as yesterday.”

And it was good, but simple fare, even if it wasn’t the monumental feast I’d tried to order.
Greasy Cholester-eggs, hashbrowns steeped in exxon valdez Mazola, sodium heart-stopper sausages - and to healthy it up some, dry wheat toast.

After eating, I threw a hundred bucks at dollar Treasure Chest and got nothing. Then I headed over to Main Street and had a pretty good run at triple play. Got lots of quads, and had some chances to knock one out of the park - particularly a three-to-a-quad draw with 5x pay engaged - which I failed at.



Dealt 3 fours on triple play, 5x multiplier....
...and got three fours three times. ARGH!
Down $600 on the day already??? I had a big day ahead of me! I had to play at Encore, show off to Kenny and LuLU!

Argh.

I went to the slot club booth and got my cashback for points - $78 dollars. I mentally called this $100 and pegged my loss at $500 for the day.

Because accounting.




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