Tuesday, September 6, 2016

Part 4 - The Exotic Island of Treasure Island









In part 4 of this Super Vintage trip report from 1999, we finished up at the Nugget and moved to Treasure Island. I believe this was our first stay there.

This was the days of the 1-100 coin full pay video poker machines that gave comps at the reel slot rate and that no matter how many coins you played, you got a full pay Royal. Yup, playing 1 coin only would net you 800 credits for the Royal. So you could vary your play any way that you wanted to.

The other thing that is incredibly different is the shot of Fremont Street at night.

This is three years after the canopy was put up and there is nary a bare-assed photo hustler in sight. There are no panhandlers. There are no performance artists with dubious skills. And, there are no customers either.

The turnaround at FSE has truly been remarkable, and in my humble opinion, not always for the better. (I'm talking to you, bare-assed Cupid guy!)


Note: If you are on your smartphone, or small tablet, go for landscape mode. Because otherwise it looks like CTUG on a screen.


© 2000 Royal Flusher - All Rights Reserved

Royal Flusher's Sonyc-Vysion (tm) Trip Report

by Royal Flusher

Part 4 - The Exotic Island of Treasure Island

Another beautiful sunrise greeted us this day. The mountains stretched their arms towards me in a benediction, and I felt the warmth of the sun energize the desert landscape and flow onto my back. It was gently urging me forward, pushing me with the promise of dreams yet unfulfilled and whispering in my ear…

"Gamble?"

It pushed me out the door, down the hall, towards that progressive. We were hoping it hadn't been won yet, and it hadn't. It was up to $9400 bucks. Not too shabby for an 8/5 machine.

Well, we played our little hearts out. We first set a 'stop loss' limit and we gave it a really good shot. And we missed by a mile. This progressive did not have our names on it.

Night on Fremont Street

We visited the slut clob and got our room costs picked up and a hundred and some odd bucks in cash back as well.

I was hungry but Mrs. F wasn't. We had enough play for a single buffet though, after hasseling the manager a bit and I went off to eat while my little Pumpkin Pie played video poker. Nickels.






Sonyc-Vysion (tm) Clip:
Nickel Jackpot! (192K)


She often wins on nickels while I'm off eating somewhere (don't ask, but it's happened many times.) Sure enough, while I gobbled down enough of those spicy, greenish, American sausages to power my arteries for the day, she was picking up four Aces on Double Double Bonus Poker.


A nice little hand pay of $101. That helped make up for the drubbing we'd taken on dollar VP.


"...we'd had a few laughs, too much booze, too many pills... we'd run through our share of cheap dames and broads..."



Sonyc-Vysion (tm) Clip:
Nude Babes in the hallways of the Golden Nugget during the fire alarm. (716K)

Up to the room we went to pack for the transfer to The Island of Treasure Island. All of a sudden, whoop, whoop, whoop - the fire alarm went off. We weren't sure whether to haul our bags down the stairs with us, since they were packed and ready to go. We ended up checking out the situation first, since it was eighteen floors down and before long, the alarm was cancelled and an untelligible voice gave (what we presume was) the all clear. (Make sure you listen to the Sonyc-Vysion recording of this exciting event! You can practically hear the nude babes running out into the hallway. Practically.)

We called the bell desk to pick up our bags and get us a cab. There was some sort of mixup and our stuff didn't arrive downstairs for almost half an hour. I gritted my teeth and tipped the guy and we were outta there.

As we drove down the strip to the Island of Treasure Island, I couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed.



Sure, we'd had a few laughs, too much booze, too many pills... we'd run through our share of cheap dames and broads... we'd been in too many fistfights... we'd gambled until dawn. Well, actually, we gambled at dawn, getting up early after a good nights sleep.

But what about my "inner child" connecting with the parallel universe of luck? What of my id and my ego channelling and funnelling my desires into a cosmic reality? Was the money wheel bunkum? Was my amulet nothing more than a hunk of silver on a chain? Where the hell was my big win, my wad o' cash? It had better be at Treasure Island, I thought, or there would be some explaining to do on the tree of life.

To better focus, I made a pyramid with my hands over the amulet and concentrated on pyramid power flowing into it. I thought I could feel something and shifted my hands slightly. Yes, yes I could feel it. It felt good, a slight tingling.

"Get your hands off your crotch," said the ever observant Mrs. F.
This is how Las Vegas looks after a booze and pill binge - if you can hold your head up to see out the window...
She rolled her eyes a bit and made that sharp sucking sound wives make. Tsk. Trust me, there's no way to spell it, but when you hear the sound, you know she's saying, 'Oh brother. What a jerk.'

"Maybe we should have stayed at Luxor again. It's a big pyramid, you know." I said, trying to get our conversation back on track. I have to admit, I was really doubting the amulet's power. Maybe I really had drained it in my basement playing WinPoker. I thought about that Tsk noise Mrs. F. makes and thought, I know what she's saying with that noise. She's calling me a name: 'Putz'.

My notes say that we had a very nice cab driver. His name was Solomon. He was very nice. Big friggin' deal. What am I going to do about it, ask for him by name next time we need a cab? Well, at least, he was very nice. And drove gently.
We checked into T.I.T.I - I had asked for a strip view room, and that's what we got. The south strip was laid out before us like a buffet of neon, steel, and greasy asphalt. Like all buffets, it looked a lot better than it tasted.

I was so excited, I took a bunch of pictures of the view (and a bunch more come night.) Not to jump ahead, but we ended up changing rooms, and I took a bunch more pictures from that room, and, well, now I have 56 roughly identical pictures of the south strip view from T.I.

The housekeeping personnel (aka maid) asked if the room was okay, and we said it was, and headed down to the casino. We like to play the 1-100 coin dollar VP machines near the elevators and we gave them a try. Not much luck there.

Lunch was comped at the Lookout Café and was wonderful. Mrs. Flusher had French Onion Soup (I'll bet they ship those onions in all the way from France!) and I countered with the California Roll. It's sort of a sushi thing, without the fish. One thing I discovered, by the way - that green paste they give you with it (I heard it called Watanabe or Kemo Sabe or something like that) isn't meant to be eaten all at once. Think of that 'I've blown the back of my head off by eating a jar of horseradish all at once' feeling. That's Kemo Sabe.

A couple of filet mignons, perfectly grilled, made up the main course, and we enjoyed dessert and cappuccino as well.

Now here's the wacky part. I took along this computer thing called a SecureID. It generates a different set of numbers every minute and is synchronized with a similar unit on a host computer. You have to type in the right numbers to log into the host computer. I brought this little piece of expensive whiz-bang technology along to use to generate lucky Keno numbers.

By God, do you know, I won $30? Maybe the microchip was mightier than the money wheel!

"Really, the whole place used to be like Disney's Pirates of the Caribbean ride, except with gambling and hookers."


Back to the 1-100 coin VP machines. I put in $50 and hit a streak. It was great! I was in that VP Alpha Zen Zone and seemed to be able to sense the ebb and flow of my luck. When it was flowing I'd push my bets to $10 a hand, and when it was ebbing, I'd back off. In the end, I cashed out $387 bucks. This was more like it. Oh amulet, how could I stay mad at you?

Somewhere along the line we ate dinner - I think it was in the T.I. Buffet. There has been a slow transformation going on at Treasure Island - all the treasure has disappeared. There used to be stuff hanging from the rafters of the casino, and the buffet too - necklaces, swords, pieces of eight, dubloons, pieces of four, pieces of five, you know - pirate stuff. And in the buffet, there were these fake antique pistols on display near the cash. Well, on each subsequent visit over the last few years, we noticed these things were glued in place with more and more epoxy. The last time I saw one, it was sitting in a hardened pool of epoxy. There was length of chrome chain around this cheap gewgaw pistol, held in place with a padlock. It kind of ruins the illusion, doesn't it? Like, when you're in a very high class restaurant and you notice the 'paintings' are screwed to the walls with sturdy hardware. Anyway, they've removed the guns and stuff too. And all the rooms have been renovated, and upgraded. Really, the whole place used to be like Disney's Pirates of the Caribbean ride, except with gambling and hookers. The theme has been made a little weaker, and less cheesy. But the gambling and (hopefully) hookers are still around.

In the evening, we ventured on the Steve Wynn T.I. Terror Tram Express. The price of travel from T.I.T.I to the Miragee is this - you have to listen to Steve Wynn during the line-up, and on the tram itself, harping on about how great his hotels are. After the first time you are exposed to his mindless banter, you just want to poke him one in the beezer. Unfortunately, it goes downhill from there.



At the Miragee, the first stop is always - *always* - the brass mermaid statue on the right. If you gently touch the statue in the right place, in the right way, you will have good luck on your next gambling session. Well, since I was tuned into my zodiac love signs, I decided to make it count. I really focused my psycho-sexual energy into my palms, and went to work.

I was happy to see that I was gathering a crowd, but Mrs. F. seemed unhappy about something. People were just beginning to show some interestein my tantric rousing of luck by cheering me on when Mrs. Flusher dragged me away by the arm. Just when I was starting to get somewhere with the mermaid, too.

"I think that's enough luck, buster," she said.

"What? I was just getting... warmed up," I assured my wife, in my most gentlemanly tone.

"You were working both hands on the mermaid's brass tits like you were juicing two grapefruits."

Maybe she had a point. Nevertheless, fully charged with destiny shaping energy, we ventured forth into the casino. Mirage's slot club has finally become 'non-snobby'. Any and all denominations of VP and slot play now count towards comps and cash back.

El Flusherina parked it at the quarter VP and I cruised the slots. Something called Jackpot Party handed over 200 quarters, but other than that, our play was non-eventful.

"All I need is shoes and my wallet, and I'm out the door - naked (but clean!) gambling-boy, that's me!"



Had I somehow, someway, perhaps offended the goddesses of providence? When we walked out of the Miragee towards the Steve Wynn T.I. Terror Tram Express, I glanced at the beautiful bronze mermaid, her proud and mighty breasts now firmer than ever, and sparkling with a newly brazed shine. I could swear she winked at me. All would be well.We arrived back at the Island of Treasure Island, ready to give it one more bash. (Did you know that you can approach *any* of the employees at a Steve Wynn resort if anything about your stay is less than satisfactory, and bawl them out? Well it's true. The voice on the Terror Tram told me so!)

A little play on the 1-100 coin dollar VP netted Mrs. Flusher a hundred bucks, but I lost. The craps table claimed fifty bucks in three minutes. ("Boy, that was fun," said the love o'my life. She's so supportive.)

I had a good feeling about this particular Double Diamond machine and turned a $30 stake into $90, and cashed out at $60. Since I had lost $30, I had to give it to Mrs. F. She sure knows her Flusho-nomics.

A tired pair of Flushers hauled their butts to their room. It is my custom to shower on a regular basis, and while in Las Vegas, I choose to do so at the end of each day. This rids me of the crud of the day (boy, would that suit the menu at the Gold Spike!) and the stink of stale smoke. I like the stink of fresh smoke, but it gets washed off with the stale stuff. What can I tell you? I deal with it.
I shave at night too, so in the blessed AM, I am ready to rock their world. All I need is shoes and my wallet, and I'm out the door - naked (but clean!) gambling-boy, that's me!

Anyhoo, to make a long story short, the john smelled. It had a very musty odor, like the smell of mold. And there was no tub. The moldy smell was definitely coming from the shower drain - perhaps it isn't used as regularly, being a handicap room? No matter. We decided then and there. We would move post-haste. First thing in the morning.

Come back for Part 5, which includes something called 'meatsicles'.

And, for your browsing convenience, here's the main page for the Sonyc-Vysion(tm) Vintage Trip Report.

R.F.

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