Thursday, October 2, 2014

Four Queens El Primo Seventies Stag Suite





I worked my way back to the Terminal 1 parkade - sticking to the accepted pedestrian walkways this time, rather than ‘off roading’ it - and went to where the car was.

And… I… couldn’t find the fucking rental car.

Again.

I was so perturbed about Kenny’s condition that I forgot to really take a bead on where the car was dumped. I think I had the wrong floor. So I changed floors. And wandered around a bit, pressing the remote deally every five feet. Thank God, I could hear a familiar “I’m over here, here, here…. dumbass’ chirp.

I got in the car and immediately called LuLU and told her what the latest was. She re-assured me that getting Kenny onto the plane was the right call and she’d shut off the worry machine until he’d landed - since there was nothing anyone could do while he was, you know, up there.

Just as I pulled out of the lot I got a text and glanced at the phone at a red light - Kenny - made it to the gate.

LuLU’s approach was the right one, and I tried to put the situation behind me and get on with my vacation. I pointed her nose into the wind, and steered north, 0 degrees on the compass. I had a date with destiny at the Four Queens.
Four Queens Ahoy!
I did the double check-in thing, hitting the Downtown Grand first, and then the Four Queens.
Soothing colors at the Downtown Grand.
I was supposed to get match play and some other coupons at check-in at the DTG but they were out. This became a point of annoyance because those match plays are worth money to me. They were promised but no matter how many people I talked to over the next couple of days, and no matter how nicely I asked, nobody would ever do anything to make amends. I even flat out asked what could be done in lieu of the coupons and the answer was, well, they are supposed to come in Tuesday. There was just this disappointing lack of any kind of effort to make it right, which is uncharacteristic for the Grand.

In fact, I told my tale to the slot club folks and they laid some other coupons on me (Triple George discount, which I didn’t use). At least they tried! The good news was I qualified for their airfare promotion which I understand only to the extent that it means I got $100 in free play.

While I was getting this sorted, the craps tables were hot, hot, hot. They’ve lowered the limits to $5 from $10. Yes, $5 craps at the Grand on a Saturday night - excellent stuff. These people were beating up the table and I wished I were playing too, but by the time I was done, so were they. I think I missed a huge heater.

But on to business.

I grabbed something to eat at Magnolia's, flashing my fancy-ass VIP food passport at anyone that crossed my path.


VIP Country Fried Steak and Eggs with 'you know what'.


Just for fun, I went to take a look at my room at the Queens and was surprised to find that I’d been given the El Primo Seventies Stag Suite. At least, it looked like a stag film shoot could easily have occurred there, particularly on the vinylette 'slipper when wet' couch.

Everything about the suite, from the fake plant, to the missing lamp, to the bad acid trip tile in the bathroom, to the three hundred pound Miami Vice coffee table shouted '1970’s money shot'.
Made for Pacino-sized lines of blow, mang.

Interior design by Starskey and Hutch's 'Huggy Bear'.
Black tile. Why not?
Those imprints were made by the knees of yesterday's starlets.

In retrospect, these guys would have fit right in here:


I headed to the bar to try my luck on the quarter double double, getting some dutch courage and avoiding the inevitable. I burned the first $20 of my $300 freeplay.

It was great to finally catch up with The Mikes at the Mikes bar, and they made me a special drink because I wasn't imbibing to my usual levels, wanting to stay sharp for the dollar play to come.
Soon to be patented Royal Temple.
Four-way 69.

Dudes.
The inevitable was, well, inevitable. I moved on to the battleground.

So there I was with just a few bucks in my wallet, staring at the dollar 9/6 Jacks machine I’d chosen. I really, really, really did not want to have to walk up to the Cal and take yet another marker.

I had $280 free play on my card and took the first hundred, and got down to business. $300 at five bucks a hand… and I had this goal of doing 1600 hands. I musta been nuts.

I’d need some luck. I’d need lots of luck.

“Hi,” I muttered to myself, “I’m Steve Luck… and welcome to my Luck. I’ve got… easy navigation, I'm fast and convenient, and I’m glad I’m here!”.

Hey, maybe I’d finally hit a Royal and get almost even on the trip (after taxes…).

Well, second hand in, I did get a bit of luck, hitting four of a kind right out of the gate. I was off and running. Thank you Steve Luck!
Note the number of session points - 1. Great start!
I got in about an hour of play before my dough ran out. Not a bad start. I wanted to get some dinner and watch the Roughriders game, so I ordered some more dough - a pizza and a glass of milk from Chicago Brewing Company room service.

“Room number sir?”

“Seventy’s Stag Suite.”

“Yes SIR! Right away sir!”






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