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Saturday, November 29, 2014

Claim Jumper at the Nugget


Day 12 Wednesday Nov 5, 2013 - part 2

With the car taken care of, we played at the Nugget for a while, before taking long rest breaks.

And somewhere in there, the Quad Queen did round two of the Turkey Trot. It doesn't matter much, she didn't get anywhere with it, didn't win one of the five rebuy awards, or any of that stuff.

I went to the Grand and napped and showered and then brought the remains of the wine back to the Nugget so the Quad Queen could taste it. I had some bubbly I'd bought at Hole Foods and had been carting around all this time.

So we hung out at the Nugget, enjoying wine, keno, and doing all the fun things you can do on a rest break in Vegas.

Ok, well, not everything - we didn't order room service.

We headed back down and hit the bars, and I enjoyed my Cohiba cigar. I had a win which carried me through the session.
Got the kicker - doesn't matter on this game.
I have to give the Nugget props - they got some very bad press over the state of the Carson St. Cafe's kitchen a while back and did the right thing - completely gutting it, and starting over with two new places, one of which is the Claim Jumper - part of the Landry's chain of restaurants.

I wanted to try it so that's where we went for dinner. The menu had all kinds of interesting general comfort food kinds of things on it, but for some stupid reason, I wanted ribs.
Claim Jumper
So I went with it, and Mrs. F. ordered the chicken pot pie (which, I'm told, now means something different in Colorado). The server complimented her on her choice - apparently it is quite good.

Let me tell you, I enjoyed the ribs like crazy. I found the sauce to be delectable. The meat itself was tender and all in all it was pretty respectable. The veg wasn't overdone, which I appreciated.

I had these potato thingies that had stuff in them. They are called three cheese potatocakes, which is something Latvian ladies of the night call their lovers (I've heard).

The chicken pot pie was highly rated. It looked gorgeous.

Some sort of heart-healthy cheese testicles dish.
A peek inside the pot.
After dinner, we were at loose ends with nothing to do. Vegas is such a bore.

Huh? Yeah right. Back to the Grand to chase those Aces which STILL had not been run. I was hoping for a replay of last spring's triumph, when I hit them for over $1000, but I just couldn't get there.

Fours. No kicker though.


An insane amount for the Aces kicker progressive.



Mrs. Flusher had three Aces dealt five times and I had them dealt three times. I had to give up a full house to shoot for the quad once too, but of course, didn't get it. They just weren't meant for us this time, I guess.

It seemed like the tide was turning against us, as the pretty typical combined loss started to mount up.

"You know what we need?" I said.

"What?"

"Another Royal."

"Dream on."

"Things can happen. I know. We have two days left. We could get on a Boner Deluxe run on dollars or something and make back $1600 like that!"

This from a guy who can't get the fucking gas cover open.

Royal Flusher: Day -$520 Trip +$2610
Quad Queen: Day -$780 Trip -$4290

Combined: -$1680
Royals Flush: Six (!!!!!!)





Ford Taurass its a Gas Gas Gas


Day 12 Wednesday Nov 5, 2013 - part 1

Well guess what? I had about three reasons to like the Downtown Grand. One of them was the restored full pay video poker which had been ransacked yet again by the suits, as mentioned. And, one of them was the bold, dark flavorful coffee roast they supplied free in the morning.

The coffee in the morning at the Grand is now, officially, crap. It's horrid. The same sort of corporate cafeteria low grade utility crap you get as the lowest common denominator.

I was so disappointed! I had two cups each morning, and I am positive they've changed the coffee used. There was so much attention to detail when they first opened, but they fumbled the casino. Now they are backpedaling and cutting quality to try to get back on their feet.

The Aces kicker progressive at the Downtown Grand had still not been hit, and was well over $1000, so we chased that some more, first thing in the morning.

Frustratingly the Quad Queen hit Aces... but no kicker. That particular missing kicker cost her about $750.

Quad Queen hit four Aces. No kicker though. Almost $300 win...


The Grand has a number of promotions on including point multipliers. And, for every 1000 points you could earn $5 in food, up to a maximum of $50 a day. I had no trouble earning out the maximum. So, I'd eat free if I wanted. The virtual vouchers are good for 48 hours.

Combining this with point multiplier days, and food discounts such as half price for people over 50 on Thursdays, your dollar could go a long way on the better video poker machines.

We ate breakfast at S+O (which is the new-speak name of Stewart Ogden, which was the name of the main eatery in the Grand).

I had the egg and sausage sandwich thingy and Mrs. Flusher had an omelette. Both were good but the bill came to over $30, which is a bit high for downtown notwithstanding any discounts. Good thing I had vouchers to cover it.

We went at the Aces and still could not get them. So frustrating to have that ripe delicious peach of an Aces Kicker just out of my tippy-toes finger-tip reach and not be able to taste the succulent juices of four Aces and a kicker. How frustrating? So frustrating, that's how.

I had to return the rental car, so at eleven I headed out, picked up the car, and went on a drive, looking for a gas station. I know the rental peeps can be kind of anal about you returning your car at the appointed hour - not before, and not after, lest there be charges for such temporal crimes.

And, it was vital that I fill the car, because they would charge me the price of a full tank if I returned it anything less then brimming with petrol.

Thinking I had plenty of time, I thought I remembered seeing a gas station down Las Vegas Boulevard, near the Strat. It was another beautiful sunny day, so I rolled down the windows on the Ford Taurus and moseyed down that way.

I can say that it took until this, the seventh day of my week long car rental, to finally fathom how the abso-fucking-screwy turn indicators on the Ford Taur-ass work. (Or don't work.) I was constantly fighting with these things, signaling, not signaling enough, signaling the wrong way when trying to turn off the signal after a lane change.

Anyway, it took me a while to find the station and then took me a couple of passes to get turned around and into it. Hmmm, five to twelve, and I was supposed to have the car back at twelve.

I pulled up to the pump and then remembered something I'd seen on one of those listicle things that pass themselves off as journalism - 839 things you must know about pumping gas into a car. Usually there is a little arrow indicating on what side the gas-hole is on. Now, as a rational human being, I'd assumed that it would be where God intended it to be - on the driver's side - and had parked accordingly.

No.

It's on the passenger side. So I got back in, started 'er up, did some fancy maneuvering and got lined up with the passenger side gas-hole next to a pump.

Then I had to navigate the 'we don't trust you one bit' gas pumping system I've found in various places in the US. Things are much more relaxed up here in Flusherville - its virtually unheard of to have to go inside to use your credit card, or pay in advance.

I went inside and said I wanted to fill the car to the brim, and presented my credit card.

No.

Cash or debit only.

What the fuck? And guess what? I had two fives and about three tipping dollars in my wallet and that was IT. I forked over everything I had.

"Thirteen dollars worth of your lowest quality gas, please. Maybe you have some made by the same people that now make the coffee the Downtown Grand serves - if so, that's the one I want."

I went out to the car, unlocked it, and got in, leaving the door open. I'd just find the fuel cover release button, and get on with it.

I looked on the door. On the console, On the dash. Under the dash. Around the seat. Inside the bins. Inside the glove apartment. I looked everywhere for that fucking thing and do you think I could find it? Hell no.

I got out and checked the cover to see if was an old school one I could just pull open. Nope, that was clearly not the case. It was now five after twelve and I was late.

If only I had some sort of device that I could consult, giving it information about what I wanted, maybe even asking it questions. Some sort of portable device that could connect to an information store that might hold the precious answers to the petroleum conundrum that stymied me.

"C'mon, Flusher..." I said, "use that fabulous brain of yours!"

I wished I could suddenly get smart about all this.

And then it came to me. My piPhone 3.1.4! I pulled up Google and clumsily thumbed in a query.

"FORD FUCKING TAURASS GAS COVER RELEASE"

I thumbed enter and the answer came back.

"IT DOESN'T HAVE ONE, ASSHOLE!"

Wha'????

I read further and then performed the motion I'd performed a million times before, slapping my forehead, which had resulted in quite an unnatural slope on the old noggin by this point in my life.

I got out of the car, walked around to the passengers side and deftly pushed on the gas cover, which popped open with a happy little 'poinggg' that made me want to kick the shit of it.

There were two questions remaining. One, was thirteen bucks enough to push the needle to read 'F' ('F' for fuck you Taurass). And two, what kind of hefty late charge would I be looking at when I got back to the Four Queens Avis Rent-a-car outlet.

I pumped. I pumped some more. I pumped like the wind. Every last drop of thirteen bucks in gas went into the Taurass. There was nothing else for it but to get in and make a run for the hotel.

Starting the car, I was pleased to see that the needle was indeed showing a full tank of the good stuff.

Signaling right, I turned left onto the boulevard and raced uptown. Thank God it was a quick trip. I whipped into the garage, parked, and even remembered to take note of the odometer reading and the spot number, and hauled ass down the piss stairs to the counter.

Parking garage stairways always are piss stairs - its the go to place to have a piss outside of an actual men's room.

Regardless, I incurred no further charge, and the Ford Taurass was no longer my problem.

And just to show 'em, I left the turn signal on.





No Kickers For You

Day 11 Tuesday Nov 4, 2014 - part 2

We had originally planned to return to the Cal on this day, but Mrs. Flusher so loved her Nugget tub, we had John Submarine extend the stay there by two days - and that's how she ended up in the Turkey Trot Tournament.

Over at the Downtown Grand I got checked in but my room wasn't ready yet - and that's ok, it was pretty early. The best part was they gave me double match play coupons to make up for last time.

It's a good thing too, because when you are dealing with petty, obnoxious savvy customers like me, something like that could break the relationship for good.

Somewhere in there I bought a cheap, $2 corkscrew at the Four Queen's gift shop. We had late check-out so when I got a phone call from the Grand saying my room was ready, it was a one-shot move to bring my stuff over to the room.

I've stayed in the east tower of the DTG a couple of times, facing east, but this room was in the west tower, facing west. I have to say, I like that setup a bit better. The view is more interesting, and it's quiet. I would imagine there wouldn't be any pool noise, as there was last summer in the east tower.

The only downside is its a bit further to the casino, but if you take the elevator right to the bottom, it dumps you out at the Commissary, and a quick walk across the never-busy street and you are back inside at the casino. If everything lines up you can probably make it in two minutes flat. So no biggie.

And, they've moved the morning coffee to the Commissary area in that building, so that's actually more convenient.

We played some downstairs at the Furnace Bar.

And this is where I got really pissed off - they've lowered the fucking paytables again at the bar. And on some of the machines on the floor. Yes, there is still full pay, but they've gutted the paytables by half, just a few weeks after fixing it.

Downtown Grand... What? The? Fuck? Do you, or do you not want my business?

I've been cheerleading this place for a year now, and communicating the customer's point of view, because I like the place, I like having another alternative downtown, I want to see downtown do well, I want to support independent operators that are not part of the oligopoly (a word Jimmy Poon taught me - it means 'a bunch of corporate fuckers').

But that's it. The gloves are off and this place now gets now favors from me.

It just turns out that the Aces kicker progressive was ridic high and growing, so that's what we played. Time to chase those Aces again!


Quad 4s....no kicker though.
I had enough success to not lose too much at the bar - two or three hundred - and then called a halt.

Silver Oak Alexander Valley Cabernet Sauvignon 2008
With it being such a long trip, I wanted some downtime. I was getting burned out! I retired to my room and used the $2 screwdriver to open the plonk.

This stuff was from 2008. Now, I don't know much about wine, but I certainly do know what year it is. If I'd realized this was old stock, I would have insisted on a fresh, 2014 bottle

In any case, I poured some carefully into my tasting vessel - a plastic cup. And I tasted it. And you know what? It tasted pretty good.

In fact, it tasted really, really good, much better than the $4 bottle of merlot I'd sucked down earlier in the trip.

The more I tasted it the more I liked it. I sat down in an armchair in the sun, which was now lighting up the room with its golden warmth. I wouldn't get to do anything like this at home any time soon. I enjoyed the wine, looked at my iPad, and just basked.

Curious, I did a search online and found out that this stuff sold for around $85 a bottle.

No wonder it tasted so good!!!

I recorked the bottle, saving half for later, took a long shower, and a nap.

Pre-dinner, I played some craps, but I was not feeling it at all. The table was ice cold and with most of my buy-in gone in 3 minutes, I walked. Over to blackjack. There was a nice young couple playing next to me, and I enjoyed their company. They were kind of cute, not betting much, sweating every dollar. I gave them my second match play coupon under the table. (They won on it.)
Zoom on the Cameron Powershod G16 works pretty well!
We had dinner at Hugo's (again, review still to come) and then played out the evening chasing the Aces at the Grand.

They went higher and higher, and I outlasted the Quad Queen who begged off to go to bed. I walked her over, then came back and hammered some more.

It took my third hundred and a bunch of different machines to get going. That last hundred lasted me three and a half hours. I played that fucker flat out without any breaks. I quit when I was too tired to continue, without getting the Aces. I literally could not play any more - talk about completely satisfying that playing jones!

This was the day that named the trip report - I can't remember a day when I got so many Aces, 2s, 3s and 4s with not a single kicker. Those kickers represented a difference of $1,100.

I wasn't unhappy with the day though - it was a complete turnaround from the day before, and I'd eked out a small win. If I could keep eking in the next few days, I'd finish a winner.

Royal Flusher: Day +$80 Trip +$3130
Quad Queen: Day -$560 Trip -$3510

Combined Trip: -$380
Royals Flush: Six (!!!!!!)




That's the way the Turkey Trots

Day 11 Tuesday Nov 4, 2014 - part 1

A check of the Sportbook bar at the Smug Golden Nugget showed that the change Johnny Blueshirt and his Gang of Screws had made to the bartop machines was that they'd all been upped in denomination to a minimum of 50 cents.

Shitty paytables and now a 50 cent minimum? There's a good business decision that will keep us away from that bar forever more. Slick move, guys.

When Mrs. Flusher registered for her Turkey Trot Slot Tournament, it reminded me of something the Nugget had said about being in some sort of wine promotion. And they'd given us a letter which indicated we could pick up a bottle of wine at the slot club.

We'd forgotten to do this for about five days running, so I made a mental note to do it today, and promptly forgot all about it. Like I'd done every day.

We were done with the Four Queens for this trip (or rather, they were done with us, having kicked our asses nine ways from broke).

I was going to grab a room at the Downtown Grand for a couple of nights and we'd both play on my card there to see what offers we might get in future.

I had short-played them the last couple of stays because they'd raped all the paytables. But now that they'd seen the light and restored some full pay video poker, I thought they deserved another chance.

Besides, I liked their coffee.

Our morning started at the triple play machines just outside the Spa tower elevators in the Smug Nugget.

Actually, our morning started just before that with our pillaging of the little brown envelope in the safe, to give me a stake for the day. Fortunately, the Quad Queen still had her second stake from the day before intact.

With trepidation, I sat down and we commenced to playing the machine de la video poker.

"I have trepidation..." I whined.

"Shut up and deal," came the reply.

A minute or two in I got a quad on Bonus Poker. Whoopee. I didn't even bother to take a picture. But there was something about the way the machine was playing, or my luck, or the part of the set of possible experiences that I was now randomly encountering... 

"This machine is HOT HOT HOT!!!" I screeched.

And it was. Because I'd been winning a lot of hands and the credit meter was growing.

So I did a side-loaded volatility parlay power shift and switched to Double Double Bonus.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Flusher was disgusted with her machine, and went to one on the other side of the bank. No matter. I'd just focus and play.

And man, oh, man did I get on a streak. I was flying. Every three or four minutes I'd pop my head up over top of the machines and yell at the Quad Queen what I'd hit.

"Four Deuces! ...no kicker, though."
8:06 am
This was the change I needed to help get over the previous day. What a frickin' relief!!!!

"Got Four Aces!!! ....no kicker, though." It was too bad, one kicker would have added $300 to the win.
8:08am
 "Four Threes!!!!! ...no kicker though."
8:10am
I played a while longer and cashed out my profit. Four quads total, including three decent Double Double Bonus quads (no kickers though) in four minutes, had put me up around $400 on the day by the time I cashed out. Holy fuck, what a relief, and a great way to start the day.

(If I'd gotten those kickers, it would have added $500 to the winnings. Stupid video poker!)

They were doing some construction around the Nugget, with the center part of the casino walled off. A talk with one of the long-serving cocktail waitresses revealed that after putting in the fancy ceiling decorations with all the cloth and big round light fixtures that looked like oversized lamps, they'd realized that it made the ceiling look pretty much like a coffin - not the image a palace of fun and chance wants to project.

So they wiped out those lights and replaced them with these custom designed and very expensive fixtures.

I quite like these. The picture doesn't do them justice but they have nice warm woody and amber tones to them. I should have used the Cameron G16.

Enjoy while you can, these are going too. At the back of the pic you can see the walled off area.

Maybe third time was a charm for wasting lighting fixture budget money.

We played at the bar for a while.

"We have to remember to get that bottle of wine..." I said.

"Shut up and deal."

A great place for breakfast in Vegas.
This is about how it looks after a while at the bar. That looks to be quad fours on Double Double... no kicker though.
It was time to Turkey Trot, so we headed over to the coop to get signed in. They event was jammed with people, loud, and obnoxious.

I pitied the people that had to work there, particularly the facilitator on the floor. Next time you are unhappy with your job, think of this guy, who handled it all with aplomb (or is that with plumage?...)
She did her first session and did not do well. But she had fun (I suppose) mashing the buttons like crazy.
Some of Mrs. Flusher's savvy competitors, looking focused and having, as you can see, a blast.
 She finished up and I said, "We have to remember to get the wine..."

"After we eat."
Window seats at the buffet afforded views of the beautiful day unfolding and the goings on at the pool.
We decided on buffet for breakfast and it was, again, good! I quite like the Nugget buffet for breakfast now, having enjoyed it a few times this year.
From salmon, to corned beef hash, to pizza to half an Arturo Fuente - delicious!
For some stupid reason I broke my rule never to eat scrambled eggs from the bin at a buffet. And again I was reminded of why I have this rule. Doesn't matter what buffet you are at, this is always a disgusting option. Aside from that, for which I don't blame the Nugget - there are rules of physics that make bin eggs awful, that can't be overcome, I really enjoyed my breakfast.

"We have to go get the wine..." I said, on our way out.

And guess what??? We did! The slot club was right there at the bottom of the esc-u-lator, and we presented the Letters of Wine Transit and in return, they gave us a bottle of wine.

We had no idea what this was all about - our host John Submarine had just booked us in under this particular offer for part of our stay.

Anyway, we were the proud owners of a bottle of Silver something or other wine. I took a quick look and, yeah it had a cork. So I'd have to find a corkscrew somewhere in Vegas.

It was time to do some Admin. I had to get checked out of the Four Queens, we had to get our cashback, and also make a reservation for dinner number two at Hugo's. I had to check in at the Downtown Grand - and see what kind of hell I could raise around the fact that I didn't get my matchplay coupons last stay.

I got $188 cashback, and she got $187. There was still some things on our bill from Hugo's dinner number one, so we went to see the hosts.

The host looked at our play and made like it was a big deal to comp off the remaining hundred or so dollars - it seems the Hugo's meal has a limit of $150 and the champagne I'd ordered put it over.

Well guess what, my coin in was shown as $58,825 and coin out $57,846. Mrs. Flusher's coin in was $59,947 and coin out was $57,155. Not sure why were short of $60K each, but those are the numbers we got.

We'd lost about $3000 there. Goddamn rights that wine was going to get comped off.

Bottom line, I got what I wanted.

Combined coin in $118,772. Combined coin out $115,001. That's a return of 96.82%. We had no Royals. The Royal represents almost 2% of the return of 9/6 Jacks. So without Royals, the theoretical return of Jacks is 97.54% We were about 0.7% off of that. So, I think our results were actually pretty close to what the math says we should have gotten.

We had a quick session at the Mike's Bar to have a drink and toast our cashback, which provided a nice little boost to our stakes.


We played without our cards in, not wanting to mess up our daily averages. And guess what? I got another nice little addition to my stake - four Aces on Double Double for $200. If I'd gotten the kicker, it would have been $500.
Four Aces. No kicker though.
And with that, it was on to the next part of our Vegas Adventure.





Friday, November 28, 2014

Crushing End of Days -or- How I Met Vital Vegas

Day 10 Monday Nov 3, 2014 - part 4
Blatant Vital Vegas plug.
Mrs. Flusher had registered for her exciting Turkey Trot Tournament of Slots at the Nugget, so that was some free excitement coming our way.

The do-over day designed to derail the dollar debacle day we endured was a dud. It will be tough to return to SLS again, given that our first visit there resulted in a combined $700 dumping, with no quads at all between us.

And yet, I really liked the place. There were so many design things that I found appealing, lots of interesting restaurants to try, and full pay video poker to boot. They are having growing pains, which has resulted in the (temporary they say) closing of the buffet, and reduced hours in other restaurants, so here's hoping they can make a go of it.

I had gone through $1500 of dollar play with one quad (dealt to me!) and that is it.

Fortunately we had some social plans for the evening, meeting up with Jeff and Janis at Chicago Brewing Company for some beers and food.

And, I was looking forward to meeting Scott Roeben, who is the purveyor of one of the finest websites about Vegas, VitalVegas,com (home of Essential Las Vegas News, Deals, Tips and WTF). If you like my sense of humor, you'll love Vital Vegas as well. And if you don't like my sense of humor, there's still a great chance you'll love Vital Vegas.

We got there ahead of everybody, which was potentially the kiss of death, because who would pay for a beer in Chicago Brewing Company and not play video poker? Certainly not us. Because degenerate.

We hit up the 50 cent Double Double Bonus. I remember losing another hundred. On the second hundred I did manage to get a four of a kind.

The Quad Queen had better luck hitting one to get her started, parlaying to dollars, and getting another one.

Wisely she cashed the ticket and started again at 50 cents and then was dealt Deuces (with the kicker!!!!) for $400. Some very savvy button-pushing on her part.

Jeff and Janis arrived, saving me from further defeat, and we managed to grab some of the armchair and couch seating.

After recapping our respective days and quaffing (a fancy word for 'drinking') some very good beer, I spotted a familiar face wandering through the place. The familiar face (familiar from his postings on the internet) was fortunately attached to a head, and that head was attached to an unfamiliar neck and body.

I went over to him.

"You're Vital Vegas!" I said. "Come on over and sit down and have a beer. Jeff, Janis, this is Vital Vegas!"

For some reason, though, he preferred to be called Scott.

We ordered some pizzas and more beer and snarfed pizza, drank beer, and gabbed. I explained to Scott how the day had gone, and got Jeff and Janis caught up with our unfortunate SLS fail.

"You know," I said, "this is my single worst day of gambling I've ever had in Vegas in 52 trips."

"You have a serious problem," he said.

"I have to agree. My problem is I'm out of money to gamble."

We had a really great time swapping gambling stories, talking about blog things a bit, and just laughing a lot, something I really needed, given the situation. It gave me some perspective and I was reminded of my own adage - the worse things get, the more horrible the events, the better reading entertainment it makes.

I picked up the tab using some of the many comp dollars I had put together at the Four Queens, and put a couple of decent cigars on the tab as well - a Cohiba and a Monte Cristo. These are both names I've heard of, so I was pretty sure they would be a good smoke, although in retrospect, I think one of them might have been the name of a car my father used to drive, so maybe its a dud. One thing was for sure, these cigars were well endowed, judging by the fancy hard plastic condoms they ship in.

When the evening wrapped up, I took stock. I had a lone hundred dollar bill and a $50 Four Queens ticket. That is what was left of my $2000 stake for the day. I felt absolutely sick about things. I never intended to play so much money. I never expected that dollar play could go so badly. Jeff had taught me that it could be much worse.

At the Nugget, we gave the triple play Bonus Poker a last-gasp try.

"I wish I could be just dealt a winning hand, like four Aces, and then I'd have $300 and then I could just cash out and it would be so bad," I said.

A few hands later, oddly, I was indeed dealt a quad - four deuces.


I cashed out of that session a winner, up $100 - which was huge, huge, huge. I'd lost every other session all day long.

We decided to visit our friends in the sloping hallway. Those poor machines don't get any love at all. It's no wonder they coughed up a Royal so readily.
Poor Disrespected Sloping Hallway Machines!!!
The Quad Queen did okay, I didn't get anything going.

To end the day, we returned to the scene of the crime. I put my $50 into the dollar jacks, and then said screw it, and went all in, putting my last $100 in as well.

"I think I need to have the experience of losing $2000 in one day," I said.

"And why's that?"

"To see what it's like?"

"And....?"

"So as to not ever repeat it," I said, in the smallest font size my voice could muster.

I Lazarused a few times, poking along, and then I had a change of attitude. Fuck it, I thought. I'm going to play this machine like I'm on a winning streak. I'm going to play it like I own it. Aggro. Fast.

And by God, I worked my way all the way back up to $200. Maybe the 'I'll just coast' mentality changed how I played and cost me bigtime. No more.

The end result?

I lost all my money, but it took a lot longer. Therefore, I had more fun?

Right.

I gave myself a pep talk. I was still up $3000 on the trip. I could still have winning days. I could maybe win my money back. I just had to trust the math.

Royal Flusher Way - putting the laughter back in slaughter!

Royal Flusher: Day -$2000 Trip +$3050
Quad Queen: Day -$970 Trip -$2950

Combined: +$100
Royals Flush: Six (!!!!!!)




Thursday, November 27, 2014

A look at SLS Las Vegas


Day 10 Monday Nov 3, 2014 - part 3 

From the ashes of the under-utilized-in-the-modern-era-but-once-a-classic-casino-hotel Sahara rose the casino resort called SLS Las Vegas. It's nomenclature? Modern, ultra-cool, and misread (from the back of a Mercedes, but who would call a resort the SL5??).
It's desired clientele? From what I can glean, good looking, young, rich people who have for some reason fled the Cosmopolitan and the Palms and Hard Rock before that looking for 'some place with a decent cartoonish one-eyed statue out front'.
We self-parked and then ran the gauntlet of the porte cochone. I figured we must have exited in the wrong place because we ended up walking along car lanes and across car lanes and through other car lanes. Because the place wasn't busy mid-afternoon on a Monday, we didn't get turned into strawberry jam by some good looking, young, rich person driving a Mercedes SLS00.

I had high hopes for the SLS. Their website looked ultracool, for one thing.

One of the things about SLS that I love is the fact that it isn't MGM and it isn't CET. We need more competition on the strip, and fresh ownership blood is a really good thing.

Back to the property itself, there has been a lot of thought given to the design notes of the SLS (is it 'the' SLS or SLS or?...). The rooms exhibit notes of post-modern over the top understated sultriness. The casino and public areas? They exhibit notes of overstated pre-modern under the top sultriness. Except the ceiling itself, which exhibits design cues signaling 'we didn't have money to finish this, or a vision, so we just spray painted the fucker flat black'.

And yet... there are so many pleasing whimsical design elements that I found myself really wanting to like SLS.

It was full of promise, with a really interesting set of restaurant choice, lots of creative and innovative elements in the fittings, and hey, full pay video poker.

We signed up at the slot club and found a decent bank of full pay slant top video poker machines. I hate to say this, but I've seen the pattern before... (the) SLS is loaded with full pay video poker, as most places are when they open. My jaded side fears that this will be chipped away at until, less than a year after opening, the offerings will be as dismal as anything else on the strip. Well, here's hoping, prove me wrong, the SLS, prove me wrong! Keep the good paytables!

Putting our horrible losses of the morning behind us, we set out to give the new kid on the block (hey, that would be a great band name!) a decent amount of dollar play, and then we'd see what kind of offers cropped up in future.
The high point was getting the sign-up spin bonus. I won $5. Yay me.

Mrs. Flusher played on my card and we started hacking away. Fifteen minutes later, I was down $400 not having hit a goddamned thing. At least my drink arrived before I stormed off to take pictures.
Whimsical design element.
It's weird how bad luck at one place could follow me to another place.
The Quad Queen also continued to struggle and dumped $300, in not much longer than my 15 minutes of fame - when I came back from taking pictures, she was done.

I'm sure (the) SLS will enjoy our $700 donation and see us as gamblers worthy of some comp room and freeplay offers in future. We'll see.

Overall my impression of SLS was very favorable. Great selection of video poker, prompt drink service, engaging and refreshing design. If I can mentally put aside the strange streak of bad luck we had, I will definitely want to return for a stay and get to know the SLS better.


A nod to the Sahara.
We hauled our sorry asses back downtown. I was down some $1500 on the day, almost twice the maximum daily loss I've ever had in my 52 trips to Vegas

Now what??
There are lots of eateries at SLS, some of them (unlike the buffet) still open for business. Growing pains.
Obviously, the pool area. Not well attended this day.





Stunning main entrance.
This is actually pretty goddamned cool.
Artisan pizza.
The kaleidoscope is only visible from certain angles - not to be missed!




Ironically, a rug wearing Sean Connery for a change.